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THE 



PATRIARCH OF HEBRON: 



OR THE 



HISTORY OF ABRAHAM, 



BY THE LATE 

REV. DAVID PEABODY, 
w 
Professor of Oratory and Belles Lettres in Dartmouth College, 
New Hampshire. 



J. C, MEEKS, 152 NASSAU STREET. 

1841. 






Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1841, in 
the Clerk's office of the District Court of the Eastern District of 
Pennsylvania. 



£ 



INTRODUCTION, 



A considerable portion of the Old Testament, 
consists of brief biographical sketches. These 
are frequently sketches of characters distin- 
guished for piety and the influence exerted on 
the destinies of mankind. To preserve an im- 
partial history of such, was an undertaking 
worthy of inspiration. And to unfold that 
history, and to bring out more prominently the 
lessons of instruction which it contains, cannot 
be deemed an unimportant service to the cause 
of truth and religion. 

Two things are especially remarkable in the 
biography of the scriptures-its impartiality and 
its condensation. The former is seen in the 
fidelity with which, not only the lights, but the 
shades of the picture are presented. The faults 
as well as virtues of its subjects, are exhibited 
with a bold and unsparing hand. If a faithful 
servant of God is betrayed into some flagrant 
sin it is recorded without apology or explana- 



** INTRODUCTION. 

tion. This is a peculiarity of the scriptures 
evincive of their divine origin. 

The condensation of their biographical 
sketches is not less deserving of notice. A few 
bold and expressive strokes give you the por- 
trait of the man. In a few leading events of 
his history, is spread before you the general 
map of his life. Such a map, however, must 
necessarily be but an outline. It is yet an out- 
line so constructed, that a little care can often 
fill it up, supplying what is deficient, and ren- 
der it beautifully complete. 

We may recognize the same style of pencil- 
ing in the word as in the works of God ; for 
as in the one " the invisible things " pertaining 
to his character, may to some extent be " un- 
derstood by the things that are made ;" so, in 
the other, much that is undescribed pertaining 
to the character of men, may be understood by 
that which is recorded. Light is thrown only 
on here and there a prominent point, the bas- 
relief of life ; but that light can readily be re- 
flected and diffused, till many other lineaments 
of the man are made to appear in almost equal- 
ly attractive beauty. 



INTRODUCTION, 5 

He, therefore, who would write a full and 
faithful history of those worthies, of whom the 
pen of inspiration has given us the more strik- 
ing features, and throw over it the warmth and 
glow of life, should possess something of the 
same power that is necessary in the philoso- 
pher, who would construct a system of natural 
theology, gathered from the comparatively 
scanty intimations presented in the physical 
world. He must seize upon the leading inci- 
dents, and draw from them the general thread 
of life. He must detect in the prominent ac- 
tions of the man, the elements of his character. 
He must develope without creating; he must 
expand without distorting. Fabricating no new 
materials, he must dissect, analyze, and arrange 
the few which are furnished to his hand, till he 
produces a result equally removed from the 
looseness of fiction and the scantiness of the 
original record. Some scope must be allowed 
to the imagination, though never to colour nor 
add to the historical matter of fact ; but only to 
enliven and adorn it. The line must be pre- 
served distinct between the real and the fanciful; 
1* 



O INTRODUCTION. 

and the latter introduced simply to assist the 
reader to a better understanding of the former. 
Several things conspire to make the charac- 
ter of Abraham peculiarly interesting to all 
lovers of history as well as of religion. In the 
first place, it was a remarkable character in it- 
self, and would have been admired in any age. 
We find in it a combination and a harmony of 
traits of rare excellence in our fallen world. 
And yet it has enough of imperfection to show 
that it is human. That faith which brought 
Abraham into close fellowship with God, was 
the stock whereon were engrafted, or rather 
wherefrom spontaneously sprung, almost every 
other virtue which can embellish human life. 
In him we may see the play of the gentle af- 
fections, united with firm and stern attachment 
to truth and duty. His heart was a fountain of 
tenderness and love ; yet it could collect itself 
in adamantine strength against the seductions 
of the world. Prompt to obey the voice of God, 
he never lost his sympathy with his fellow men, 
and what may seem stranger than all, diverse 
as were his sentiments and practices from those 



INTRODUCTION. 



of the rest of mankind, he appears always to 
have commanded their respect and friendship. 

Secondly, he lived at a critical period. He 
stood at one of those junctures in human affairs, 
where sometimes every thing depends on a 
single individual. His life constituted a link in 
the history of the world, on which the destiny 
of a hundred generations was suspended. Had 
he not been called from idolatry ; had he not 
obeyed the call ; had he been found incompe- 
tent to the crisis ; or, had a single leading 
event in his history failed ; how it might have 
changed the whole religious aspect of the world 
| to the end of time ! 

Thirdly, he is presented to us as the head of a 
great and extraordinary people. There is, 
therefore, the same interest attached to his life, 
which we are accustomed to attach to the found- 
er of a mighty nation. For the same reason 
for which we honour the Pilgrim fathers of New 
England, should we honour, in a far higher de- 
gree, the great ancestor of the Hebrew people. 

Another circumstance which contributes 
richly to the interest of the narrative, is the in- 



8 INTRODUCTION, 

tercourse maintained between Abraham and 
Jehovah. More than most other, perhaps more 
than any other of the ancient saints, he seems 
to have been directed in all the more important 
transactions of his life, by the hand of God. In 
reading the narrative, we are consequently 
brought into direct contact, as it were, with the 
Divine Being. This may indeed be affirmed, 
in relation to every part of the Scriptures ; but 
in relation to the life of this Patriarch, it is em- 
phatically true. 

In the preparation of this work, the in- 
spired narrative has been scrupulously followed; 
with no greater scope being allowed to fancy 
than appeared necessary, in order to present 
the facts in the strongest light ; with the intro- 
duction here and there of such views of scenery 
and illustrations of manners, drawn from a va- 
riety of sources, not omitting now and then a 
fragment of tradition or profane history ; and 
with such inferences of a practical nature, as 
appeared suited to render the whole pleasing 
and instructive to the reader. Though origi- 
nally undertaken for the benefit of the young 



INTRODUCTION. 



especially ; it has not been carefully graduated 
to the level of juvenile minds ; and it may be 
read with pleasure and profit, it is hoped, by all 
who are interested in the history and would imi- 
tate the example of the great and good. 



THE 



HISTORY OF ABRAHAM. 



CHAPTER I. 

STATE OF THE WORLD, 

<( And God omnipotent, when mercy failed, 

Made bare his holy arm, and with the stroke 

Of vengeance smote ; the fountains of the deep 

Broke up ; heaven's windows opened, and sent on men 

A flood of wrath ;— but still they hurried on 

Determinedly to ruin : shut their ears, 

Their eyes to all advice, to all reproof— 

O'er mercy and o'er judgment downward rushed 

To misery." Pollok. 

Of all the characters distinguished in the 
early ages of the world, with which history, 
whether sacred or profane, has acquainted us, 
that of the Patriarch of Hebron is, in several 
respects, the most remarkable. It is true, he 
was not, in human view, thrown into situations 
of such critical responsibility, as Moses the 
lawgiver of Israel ; nor did he perhaps exhibit 
qualities of such commanding interest as he; 



12 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

but his character displays a singular combina- 
tion of virtues. He presents to us a beautiful 
variety and balance of excellent qualities, which, 
considered in connexion with the position he 
holds in the religious history of mankind, must 
always impart to the record of his life, a pecu- 
liar and delightful interest. Accustomed to re- 
gard him simply as the Father of the Faithful, 
we too commonly overlook his other virtues, 
which are hardly less remarkable than his faith. 
But a careful observer will perceive in him 
an illustrious example of the quickening and 
purifying, the expansive and perfective power 
of faith on the whole man. He will perceive 
in his character, not merely a single command- 
ing quality of excellence, throwing lustre over 
whatever else belongs to it ; but a harmony of 
substantial virtues — a charming sisterhood of 
graces ; some of which are the most refined and 
amiable, constituting, in union with piety, the 
chief ornament and highest finish of life. 

Abraham* was born about three hundred and 

fifty years after the deluge. Although so short 

* His name was originally Abram. 



STATE OF THE WORLD. 13 

a time had elapsed since that terrible display of 
divine wrath against sin, nevertheless the sur- 
vivors had almost universally become wicked 
and corrupt in the sight of God. If they did 
not imitate the example of the inhabitants of 
the old world which had so recently been de- 
stroyed, they became guilty of practices scarcely 
less offensive to the pure eye of heaven. It is 
supposed that the great sin of the Antediluvi- 
ans was Atheism — a total rejection of the idea 
jof a God, the creator and moral governor of the 
world. Hence they had no fear of the judg- 
ment foretold by Noah as coming upon them. 
That tremendous judgment, however, came, 
and swept away the race of Atheists from the 
earth. The sons of men, at least the daughters 
of men , who are strongly distinguished by the 
sacred historian from the sons of God, as if 
they had become totally estranged from the 
very knowledge of their Maker, no longer re- 
| mained to corrupt those of better principles and 
purer virtue. Notwithstanding these most fa- 
vourable circumstances, sin abounded more and 
] more. 

2 



14 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

The earth was now fast becoming re-peopled. 
The confusion of tongues at the tower of Babel 
had prepared the way for a separation of fami- 
lies. Those who spoke different languages or 
dialects, could no longer enjoy each other's so- 
ciety ; and it was necessary, therefore, that the 
several parties so distinguished, should retire 
and form each a distinct community. Accord- 
ingly different companies were seen travelling 
in different directions from the plain of Shinar, 
and spreading themselves farther and farther 
over the surrounding waste. Some went west- 
ward, others eastward, seeking a new home in 
distant and unexplored regions ; and wherever 
they settled, they seem rapidly to have increas- 
ed in numbers and in power. The ruins of 
the flood were repaired by the patient hand of 
industry, and villages sprung up in the verdant 
valleys, where, but a few centuries before, the 
waters of the deluge rolled with frightful im- 
petuosity. 

While thus the population of the world was 
multiplying in numbers and extending in set- 
tlement, the light of religion grew fainter and 



STATE OF THE WORLD. 



15 



fainter, — and at length was almost lost in the 
general darkness. The almighty hand which 
had so recently broken up the fountains of the 
great deep and opened the windows of heaven, 
and had poured out the vials of wrath upon a 
guilty race till all but a single family were de- 
stroyed, was no more remembered. Idolatry 
took the place of the worship of the true God ; 
and men, in forgetting their Maker, gave jthem- 
selves up to sin without restraint and without 
shame. So early and abundantly verified was 
the declaration of God to Noah — "The imagi- 
nation of man's heart is evil from his youth." 

Thus irresistibly does the evidence of human 
depravity meet us even under the most favoura- 
ble circumstances for the trial of virtue. Never 
since the fall has there been a period, when the 
paths of obedience were so free from obstruc- 
tions, and the paths of transgression so full of 
terror. Surely, one would have predicted, the 
survivors of the flood will stand in awe of that 
sin-avenging God who rolled its desolating tide 
over the earth, and will teach their children to 
keep his commandments and shun his wrath. 



16 



THE PArRIARCH OF HEBRON. 



With that most impressive display of his ab- 
horrence of sin, and his determination to pun- 
ish it, constantly before them wherever they 
move, they will not dare to provoke him again 
to vengeance by forgetfulness of his presence or 
transgression of his laws. Altars to his wor- 
ship will be erected in every valley and on 
every hill, where the marks of his past judg- 
ments or the tokens of his returning mercy are 
seen. Alas, " leviathan is not so tamed !" 
" The heart of the sons of men is fully set in 
them to do evil." Scarcely are the waters of 
the deluge dried away, when wickedness again 
appears in forms almost as odious as before that 
dreadful display of incensed justice. In a few 
generations, the condition of mankind had be- 
come so deplorably bad, that it seemed as if the 
world must be totally abandoned ; as if God, in 
righteous indignation, would now withdraw 
himself from creatures so incorrigibly corrupt, 
and give them up to perish in their wickedness. 
The time had come, when they must be aban- 
doned to hopeless ruin, or some new manifesta- 
tion of the divine being must be made, some 
yet untried measure adopted for man's recovery. 



STATE OF THE WORLD* 17 

How plainly does this history teach us, that 
the terrors of God's justice can never reclaim 
the sinner. It is true, a promise had been given 
that the earth should no more be destroyed by 
a flood; but then this single visitation, though 
never to be repeated, read and long continued 
to read a lesson of fearful import, to the survi- 
vors and their sons. It proclaimed the truth, 
that God is angry with the wicked every day> 
and that the guilty shall not go unpunished. 
j But it was of little avail. It had no power to 
' restrain from sin. Something besides the judg- 
; ments of God is necessary to soften the hard 
heart of man, and dispose him to obey his 
j Maker. It is only when the divine mercy ap- 
i pears beaming, like the sun, through the angry 
clouds which hang over the transgressor, that 
the springs of life in the soul are effectually 
touched, its icy obstinacy melted away, and 
principles of obedience called into efficient ac- 
tion. Terror may deter, for a season, from 
particular acts of wickedness ; but it can never 
conquer the love of sin, nor implant a principle 

of holiness. It may drive the guilty wanderer 
2* 



18 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

from this or that evil way, but it can never 
draw him to God. That mercy which is mani- 
fested in a crucified Saviour, foreseen by the 
ancient saints and more clearly understood by 
later believers, alone has power to subdue and 
to renovate. Christ crucified is precisely adapt- 
ed to the condition of the sinner. The cross 
makes an appeal to the heart more powerful 
than the deluge or the fiery doom of Sodom. 
Hence, says the Saviour, "If I be lifted up, I 
will draw all men unto me." And looking 
unto Jesus, is set forth as the safeguard and 
surety of success in the spiritual race. 



CHAPTER II. 

CALL OF ABRAHAM 

M So Abraham by divine command, 

Left his own house to walk with God ; 
His faith beheld the promised land 
And fired his zeal along the road." 

Watts. 

Notwithstanding the universal prevalence 
of wickedness among men, God did not en- 
tirely abandon the world. He had purposes of 
mercy concerning it from the beginning ; and 
these were not to fail of accomplishment. " His 
purposes shall stand, and he will do all his plea- 

| sure." He was not taken by surprise in what 
had happened. This dreadful state of the world 

1 had been foreseen, and special provision made 
for it. Eternal wisdom had devised a plan to 
prevent the issue which seemed impending, — 
a plan, like all others from the same source, 
beautifully simple, yet admirable in its adapta- 
tion to the end. It was merely the singling out 
of a family from the idolatrous multitude, 
placing it in circumstances favourable to moral 



20 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

purity, instructing it in the knowledge of the 
divine character and will, and preparing it to 
be, for the race, the depository, the safe keeper 
of true religion. This was the family of Abra- 
ham. For wise reasons he was selected to be 
the head of that honoured line, which was to 
preserve the knowledge and the worship of God 
on the earth, and from which, in due time, was 
to spring the Redeemer of mankind. 

Terah the father of Abraham, was the ninth 
in a direct line of descent from Noah. He is 
represented by one of the sacred historians as a 
worshipper of idols.* He dwelt in Urf of the 
Chaldees, a country lying upon the river Tigris, 
but the precise boundaries of which are un- 
known. As the father was an idolater, it is 
but reasonable to suppose that the son was 
himself educated in the practice of idolatry, and 
infected in early life, with the prevailing cor- 
ruption of the times. Terah had three sons 
whose names are mentioned in the history — 
Haran who died in Ur; Nahor who removed to 

* Josh. 24 : 2. f There seem to have been 

both a country and a city of this name. 



CALL OF ABRAHAM. 21 

Haran in Mesopotamia, perhaps during Abra- 
ham's sojourn there, (he was grandfather of 
Rebekah the wife of Isaac>)and Abraham, who 
appears to have been the youngest. 

While still dwelling in Ur, Abraham married 
Sarah, (then Sarai,) who, as is supposed, was 
a daughter of Terah by a second marriage, and 
of course, half sister to her husband. The 
marriage of near relatives was common in those 
early times, and, as every one may see, was, 
under the circumstances that then existed, ab- 
solutely necessary. It was therefore tolerated ; 

I tolerated, however, from the nature of things, 
only as a necessary evil. 

Immediately after our first introduction to 
this family by the inspired historian, we find 
four of the number, Terah, Abraham, Sarah, 
and Lot, journeying, by a circuitous route, to- 
wards the great Western Sea. 

" And Terah took Abram his son, and Lot 

\ the son of Haran, his son's son, and Sarai his 
daughter-in-law, his son Abram's wife ; and 
they went forth with them from Ur of the 

) Chaldees, to go into the land of Canaan." 



22 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

They have now left the corrupt society of 
their tribe, and are wandering apparently almost 
without aim, in quest of a new abode. But 
they do not go forth as discontented vagrants 
nor as restless adventurers. They are led by 
the divine hand. How rare is it to find men 
changing their place of abode under such 
guidance as this ! Of the thousands who are 
seen crossing our mountains and winding along 
our valleys, how few can be denominated, in 
this respect, the followers of Abraham ! Gain 
rather than godliness, personal ease rather 
than the promotion of piety, is the general 
object. 

But how does it come to pass that this family 
are led by the divine hand ? We have just 
left them a family of ignorant idolaters. How, 
from the worship of idols, have they been 
brought to put their trust in the God of Heaven, 
and under his direction, embark on a journey 
to a distant land ? 

It does not appear that Terah had received 
any direct instructions or revelations from on 
high. God passed by the father, — but he 



CALL OF ABRAHAM. 23 

manifested himself to the son, — an instance of 
his sovereignty by no means uncommon in 
the world. He appeared to Abraham, (as 
Stephen informs us*) before he dwelt in Char- 
ran, or Haran, and commanded him to re- 
move from his native country. 

" Get thee out of thy country and from thy 
kindred and from thy father's house, unto the 
land that I will show thee; and I will make of 
thee a great nation, and I will bless thee, and 
make thy name great." 

This divine manifestation, it is evident from 
the narrative, must have taken place, prior to 
the first removal of the family. It was a mani- 
festation probably in some visible form, per- 
haps in the form of an angel as before the 
destruction of Sodom, or in a dream as in 
i Gerar. God doubtless gave some striking dis- 
play of his presence and greatness, which car- 
jried with it its own evidence, and brought 
jconviction to Abraham's mind. It is easy for 

la Being of infinite power and wisdom to find 

! 

* Acts vii. 2. 



24 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

means for the accomplishment of his purposes. 
Nor is it, in any degree, a thing incredible, 
that he should miraculously manifest his exist- 
ence and his will, to his intelligent creatures. 
The doctrine of a divine revelation, by which 
God lias made himself known to men, though 
in one view mysterious, is nevertheless ex- 
tremely reasonable. It is only the condescen- 
sion of a father adopting some unusual ex- 
pedients to make himself known, in the fulness 
of his benevolent heart, to his ignorant and 
erring children. What can be more reasonable 
than this ? He who denies the reasonableness 
of this, must believe, either that God has in his 
nature more of the tyrant than the father, or 
that he cannot go beyond the common range of 
nature's laws, in manifesting his paternal cha- 
racter to his creatures. 

It is by no means impossible, that Abraham 
had been previously disposed to listen to the 
monitions of conscience, and to seek instruction 
from the dimly written page which nature 
spread before him. It can hardly be doubted, 
that wherever there is a willing mind to be 



CALL OF ABRAHAM. 25 

taught of God and led in the way of truth, 
though in the most ignorant idolater, the Divine 
Spirit will communicate more or less of in- 
struction. 

• ' To prayer, repentance, and obedience due, 
Though but endeavoured with sincere intent, 
Mine ear shall not be slow, mine eye not shut. 
And I will place within them as a guide 
My umpire Conscience, whom if they will hear, 
Light after light well used they shall attain, 
And to the end persisting safe arrive." 

The unwillingness of men to be taught of 

! God, their opposition of heart to the nature of 

( his instruction, is the only reason why even 

the heathen remain in their wretched delusions. 

Would they but open their ears, they might 

hear the voice of God speaking to them from 

the objects of heaven and earth. And though 

ithat voice is comparatively feeble and indis- 

'tinct; yet if carefully listened to and its moni- 

itions obeyed, clearer communications would be 

afforded. " Day unto day uttereth speech and 

night unto night showeth knowledge ;" and the 

most ignorant pagan is without excuse, if he 

3 



26 



THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 



dies destitute of all available knowledge of his 
Maker and his Maker's will. 

There is a tradition among the Jews, that, 
one night, as Abraham was watching the stars, 
and observing how they sunk one after another 
from his view, the idea suddenly flashed upon 
his mind, that there was a God, greater and 
more glorious than any of those bright orbs 
which rolled above him. The sun had gone 
down, and star after star was fast disappearing. 
None of these luminaries, he concluded, could 
be God. " There must be a Being, then," he 
exclaimed, " whose brightness never fades — a 
Being above all that we see and know, who 
has spread out these heavens and ordered all 
their countless host." If there be any truth in 
this, — (and though most will pronounce it a 
fiction, there is nothing in it very incredible, — ) 
Abraham may have been in some measure pre- 
pared by such meditations for the clearer dis- 
coveries which were afterwards made to him. 
God is always ready to manifest himself to 
those who sincerely seek the teachings of his 
Spirit, The young especially, when their 



CALL OF ABRAHAM. 27 

hearts are tender and unschooled in the ways 
of vice and folly, have great reason to be en- 
couraged to seek the God of Abraham, — to put 
themselves in the way of his visitations, — and 
to expect the aid of his Spirit, if there be but an 
earnest desire to receive it. "Seek ye the 
Lord while he may be found; call ye upon 
him while he is near." 

There is another tradition, and Josephus has 
given it a place in his history, that Abraham, 
having renounced idolatry, and labouring to 
convert his Chaldean neighbours to his own 
simple faith, incurred their displeasure ; and 
I was so severely persecuted by them, that he 
j was obliged to flee from the country. Some 
| say he was even thrown into a fiery furnace, 
from which he was miraculously delivered. 
I This, very obviously, would account for his 
removal to Canaan. The story, however, has 
; little of the air of probability, and scarcely 
, deserves a place in sober history. We can 
1 believe that the three friends of Daniel were 
I preserved alive in the fiery furnace of Nebu- 
! chadnezzar, because the pen of inspiration has 



28- 



THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 



recorded the fact. But inspiration is silent 
concerning any such occurrence in the case of 
Abraham; and consequently, as it is in itself 
improbable, it is doubtless to be rejected. Yet 
it may be true, that he incurred the hostility 
and hatred of his countrymen by renouncing 
their religion, and by efforts to convert them 
also. But, however this may have been, we 
are not to question the fact that he was called 
in a miraculous manner to leave the land of his 
nativity. For wise and weighty reasons, God 
had selected him, rather than any other in- 
dividual, from among men, and manifested 
himself to him as he had not to the world, 
that through him he might preserve the know- 
ledge of his own name and character on the 
earth. 

Abraham yielded at once to the divine com- 
mand. No sooner did the Almighty speak, 
than he 'listened ; no sooner was the communi- 
cation given, than he believed. There seems 
to have been no hesitation, — no distrustful 
questioning, no balancing of the mind in sinful 
suspense* The uncertainty of the journey, — 



CALL OF ABRAHAM. 29 

for he was called to go forth not knowing 
whither,* — might naturally have induced re- 
luctance ; and how much is there in the human 
heart ready, on every such occasion, to awaken 
fear and distrust ! But he had an inward con- 
viction which nothing could shake, that He 
who had appeared to him was worthy of all 
confidence, — that He could not deceive and 
would never forsake him ; and on that convic- 
tion he forthwith proceeded to act. He instantly 
followed the Divine direction, not doubting for 
a moment the issue. There was a power ac- 
companying the testimony, — the manifestation 
and word of God, which seized and held, as it 
were, his whole mind. He had no desire to 
obtain further evidence of the reality and truth 
of that testimony ; — he felt its reality and 
truth, as he felt the truth of his own being ; 
and the one as little needed the aid of demon- 
stration as the other. He therefore submitted 
himself without delay. The language of his 
heart was, — " It is God who calleth me ; there 

* Heb. xi. 8. 
3* 



30 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

is a divine energy in that voice ; and who am 
I that I should refuse ?" Gently as an obedient 
child, he yielded to his Heavenly Father's au- 
thority ; committed all his being and interests 
to his hand ; and from that hour was accounted 
a child of God. 

Here we have a beautiful illustration of the 
nature and operation of genuine faith. It is a 
belief of the divine testimony — not merely an 
assent of the understanding — but a cordial sub- 
mission of the heart. A mere assent of the 
understanding would not have led Abraham 
forth from his native land. Nor will a mere 
assent of the understanding to the truth of the 
Gospel rescue a sinner from the death which 
awaits him. It will never purify nor elevate 
the affections ; it will never prompt to active 
self-denying obedience. Abraham's faith did 
both. His whole life shows that his heart was 
fixed on God ; and prompt obedience was 
always a striking feature in his character. 
There was a vitality and power in his faith, 
which do not belong to a cold act of the under- 
standing. It possessed a warmth which pene- 



CALL OF ABRAHAM. 31 

trated and quickened every faculty of the soul ; 
and an energy which touched the springs of 
spiritual life. 

Such a faith, such in nature and such in 
operation, must be our's, or we can never be 
numbered among the spiritual children of 
Abraham, the Father of the Faithful. Let us 
then apply the test : are we ready, like him, to 
obey the divine voice, even when it calls us to a 
life of self-denying duty ? Do the facts set 
forth in the Gospel of Jesus Christ seize and 
hold our whole minds in firm belief and grate- 
ful wonder ? And do we yield ourselves up to 
the call of God as addressed to us by his Son, 
willing to forsake father and mother, and houses 
and lands, to part with life's best comforts and 
even life itself for his sake? If this be our 
disposition and this our deed, " then are we 
Abraham's seed, and heirs, according to the 
promise." 

This good man, however, undoubtedly ap- 
peared to others as a rash and reckless adven- 
turer. He was setting out on a journey to a 
distant place of abode ; but whither he was 



32 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

going and where he would finally pitch his 
tent, he could not explain to others, because he 
was ignorant himself. He had entrusted all to 
the guidance of an unseen hand ; but they who 
did not acknowledge that hand, would of course 
deride such confidence as presumption. An 
unbelieving world will always find matter 
enough for wonder and ridicule, in the conduct 
of those who rely more on the word of God 
than the suggestions of expediency or even the 
dictates of short sighted reason. 

But how was it that any of the relations of 
Abraham were willing to accompany him on 
so wild an adventure ? Is it not reasonable to 
suppose, that, having himself become a wor- 
shipper of the true God, he laboured faithfully 
to convince his friends of the folly of idolatry, 
and to win them to a purer faith ? May we 
not imagine him seated by the side of his 
father, at his tent-door or under some spread- 
ing tree, with a little group of listeners around 
him, endeavouring, with all the eloquence of 
faith and affection, to recommend to them the 
religion which he had embraced and the God 



CALL OF ABRAHAM. 33 

in whom he trusted ? We can hardly doubt 
that he would act the part of a faithful mis- 
sionary, a preacher of righteousness ; and thus 
perhaps he persuaded his father and nephew, 
together with Sarah to become the companions 
of his journey. He had in his heart the active 
principles of religion ; and those principles 
would not suffer him to rest without some suit- 
able efforts to impart them to others. Such is 
evermore the nature of true piety. And what 
is more pleasing than to behold a son, in the 
midst of an irreligious family, kindly and affec- 
tionately recommending religion to those who 
are strangers to its influence ; employing not 
the power of the tongue merely, but of gentle- 
ness, patience, and smiling affection ; the elo- 
quence of a life lovely with all the graces of 
piety, to lead them also into the paths of wis- 
dom, which are pleasantness and peace. Many 
a son and many a daughter has thus been the 
means of converting ungodly parents and 
brothers and sisters; when, perhaps, but for 
their persevering exertions, all the more formal 
appliances of the Gospel would have proved 



34 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

unavailing. Many a heart which had resisted 
the terrors of Sinai's thunder and the voice of 
bleeding love from the cross, has melted under 
the influence of a daughter's piety and prayer. 
What a delightful additional tie of endearment 
is then formed between parents and children — 
a tie which death cannot sunder, and which 
eternity will but strengthen. 

By some such influence as has been now 
described, it is not unreasonable to suppose that 
Abraham prevailed on his father and the others 
of the company ) to leave a land of idolatry, 
and go with him to the unknown region whither 
the God of heaven should lead them. Some 
little preparation remained to be made for the 
long journey ; a few parting words were to be 
spoken ; — and then they were on their way to- 
wards the setting sun. 

We see them now leisurely moving forward, 
driving their flocks and herds before them, — 
for they are shepherds, — and stopping here 
and there to spend a season, wherever they 
chance to find good pasturage or a plentiful 
supply of water. After a considerable lapse of 



CALL OF ABRAHAM. 35 

time, they arrive at Haran ; and although, ac- 
cording to the divine direction, they were not 
to take up a permanent position till they should 
reach the land of Canaan, yet they remained 
here till the death of Terah. Perhaps the old 
man had sunk under infirmity and was unable 
to proceed. This is altogether a rational sup- 
position. We may then contemplate the filial 
affection and pious fidelity of Abraham, sus- 
pending his journey and devoting himself, with 
j undivided care, to the comfort of his father, as 
he descended to the grave. Alone in the wil- 
derness, far remote perhaps from the dwellings 
of men,* the gloom of solitude must have deep- 
ened the sadness of his heart, as he watched the 
progress of decay in his only surviving parent, 

* There is indeed no evidence that this was 
altogether an uninhabited region. Haran was cer- 
tainly a very ancient settlement, and might have had 
a few inhabitants before Abraham's residence there. 
The circumstance, however, of its being named, as 
it manifestly was, after Abraham's eldest brother, is 
an indication that it had at least no name before 
this period, 



36 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

and thought of leaving his remains in the dust 
of a strange land. Many an anxious day passed 
with painful alternations of hope and fear, as 
life and death were struggling for the mastery, 
till the great Conqueror gained the ascendant, 
and impressed his fatal seal upon the pale and 
haggard brow of his victim. With what ten- 
derness must the son have bent over the dying 
father, whom he had instructed, perhaps effec- 
tually, in the knowledge of the Most High, 
soothing his sufferings and pointing him to that 
"better country," the end of the pious wan- 
derer's journey, the Pilgrim's happy home ! 



CHAPTER II. 

ABRAHAM'S JOURNEY FROM HARAN jTO BETHEL, 

u Then kneeling down, to Heaven's Eternal King, 

The saint, the father, and the husband prays ; 
Hope ( springs exulting on triumphant wing,' 

That thus they all shall meet in future days : 
There ever bask in uncreated rays, 

No more to sigh, or shed the bitter tear, 
Together hymning the Creator's praise, 

In such society, yet still more dear ; 
While circling time moves round in an eternal sphere.*' 

Burns. 

Abraham is supposed to have remained in 
Haran about five years. After his father's 
death, as we are informed by Stephen,* he re- 
moved thence and pursued his journey to the 
promised land. Some learned men, however, 
contend, agreeably to the opinion of certain 
Jewish writers, that Terah did not die before 
the departure of his son ; and that Stephen 
meant nothing more by his death, than apostacy 

* Acts vii. 4. 



38 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

to idolatry, of which they say he was guilty. 
This opinion is adopted to obviate a chrono- 
logical difficulty, which is supposed to exist 
in the scriptural account. But as this difficulty 
can be removed more satisfactorily on other 
grounds, it is no doubt wiser and safer to un- 
derstand the statement of Stephen, as literally 
true. 

Haran, or Charrse, — (the name which the 
place at present bears is Harran) — was a city 
in Mesopotamia, situated at the distance of 
between four and five hundred miles from 
Jerusalem ; and in a direction a little east 
of north. It doubtless took its name from 
the eldest son of Terah. This was the 
place to which Jacob, in accordance with 
Rebekah's directions, fled from the anger of 
Esau, about one hundred and fifty years after 
Abraham's sojourn there ; and here also, in the 
family of Laban his uncle, he found Rachel 
and Leah, who became his wives. Whatever 
the city may have been in ancient times, it is 
now a small, insignificant place, in a flat, sandy 
plain, the abode of only a few wandering 



JOURNEY FROM HARAN TO BETHEL. 



39 



Arabs, ft derives its only distinction from the 
delicious water with which it abounds. 

In all probability those waters possessed the 
same excellence in the time of Abraham, as at 
present ; and it may have been from this cir- 
cumstance, that he protracted his sojourn for 
five years in Haran. Possibly also, as we 
know that great changes in the character of 
the soil have taken place extensively in the 
East, those sandy plains may have been at that 
distant day, covered with luxuriant vegetation, 
peculiarly inviting to a wandering shepherd. 
May we not then hazard the conjecture, that 
Abraham, charmed with the rich pasturage 
and sweet waters of the region, forgot for a 
while the original design of his journey, or was 
willing to believe that a country so admirably 
adapted to his wants, was the country to which 
God had called him ? The circumstances of 
his father's sickness may have detained him a 
while ; but hardly, one would imagine, for so 
long a period as five years. Perhaps he fondly 
clung to the spot where his father's ashes 
rested, and was unwilling to leave it. Easy it 



40 



THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 



is for the best of men to be so far influenced 
by worldly attachments and worldly interests, 
as to be greatly hindered in their spiritual 
course. Though travelling towards Zion with 
their hearts mainly tending in that direction, 
how often do they linger in some delightful, 
enchanting vale, to drink of the waters of 
earth and indulge in its delusive pleasures ! 
Meanwhile, perhaps, they forget for a season, 
their high destination, and imagine, or seem to 
imagine, that they have found their rest. The 
world is not all a wilderness. If it were, the 
pilgrim, bound to a better country, would pass 
through it with hasty and unremitting steps, 
shaking off the dust of his feet as he hastened 
on, and pressing toward his final home. But 
he falls here and there upon a green and sunny 
spot, with its sparkling fountains and delicious 
fruits. And though it may often prove to have 
been little better than a vain show, still the 
delusion enchains him, and he makes no pro- 
gress in his upward way. " Love not the 
world neither the things that are in the world." 
" Let us lay aside every weight and the sin 



JOURNEY FROM HARAN TO BETHEL. 41 

which doth most easily beset us, and let us run 
with patience the race set before us." 

It is by no means impossible, however, that 
Abraham had other and better motives for re- 
maining so long in Haran. If that region was 
then peopled, as it is by no means improbable, 
— in the character of a missionary he might 
have been well employed for a much longer 
time in proclaiming the knowledge of God. 
With a zeal quickened to greater intensity 
by the scenes he had witnessed at the bed-side 
of his dying father, he may have resolved to 
suspend his journey, till he had made known 
the religion which he had found so full of 
consolation, to all the inhabitants of the coun- 
try. 

"it is uncertain whether God appeared to 
Abraham in Haran, or whether he resumed 
his journey without further instructions from 
above. At all events, we see him again pur- 
suing his way towards Canaan, greatly in- 
creased in his possessions. God had signally 
prospered him ever since the day that he yield- 
ed to his voice. " Them that honour me I will 
4* 



42 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

honour/ 5 The wealth of those times consisted 
chiefly in flocks and herds. Servants are also 
sometimes mentioned as constituting in part the 
substance or wealth of an individual. 

" And Abram took Sarai his wife, and Lot 
his brother's son, and all the substance that 
they had gathered, and the souls that they had 
gotten in Haran : and they went forth to go 
into the land of Canaan. And into the land of 
Canaan they came." Gen. xii. 5. 

Abraham was now seventy-five years of age 
—an age at which we should look for much 
imbecility and increasing decay. But it is 
unnecessary to remark that the measures of 
age were then widely different from those to 
which we are accustomed. And it is an inte- 
resting inquiry now beginning to excite con- 
siderable attention among scientific men, 
whether the great age to which the patriarchs 
attained may not have been owing to natural 
causes ; and whether, by imitating them in 
piety of heart, in simplicity of life, and temper- 
ance in all things, men might not, after a few 
generations, regain the same longevity. At 



JOURNEY FROM HARAN TO BETHEL, 43 

seventy-five, Abraham was just in the vigour 
of manhood, — in the full maturity of his frame 
and faculties. A hundred years were yet be- 
fore him — years to be enriched with much of 
the divine goodness, though often to be darkened 
with peculiar trials. 

In passing on toward Canaan, Abraham 
travelled through Sichem, now called Naplouse, 
the place where Joseph was afterward buried, 
and where our Saviour met the woman of 
Samaria at Jacob's well. It is still a consider- 
able city, and is represented by Dr. Clarke as 
one of the finest spots in Palestine. He says — 
" As the traveller descends towards it from 
the hills, it appears luxuriantly embosomed in 
the most delightful and fragrant bowers, half 
concealed by rich gardens, and by stately trees 
collected into groves, all around the bold and 

beautiful valley where it stands The 

traveller directing his footsteps towards its an- 
cient sepulchres, as everlasting as the rocks 
wherein they are hewn, is permitted on the 
authority of sacred and indelible record, to 
contemplate the spot where the remains of 



44 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON- 

Joseph, of Eleazar, and of Joshua, were seve- 
rally deposited." 

In the plain of Moreh, a little distance from 
Sichem, Abraham paused for a short time, and 
built an altar unto the Lord. " And there he 
builded an altar unto the Lord, and called upon 
the name of the Lord." Here the Most High 
again appeared unto him, in the same manner 
doubtless as before he left Ur of the Chaldees, 
renewing the promise which he then made, and 
assuring him, that unto his seed he would give 
the land through which he was passing. 
Thence he removed to the vicinity of Bethel, 
where he built another altar, and where he 
probably had other communications from the 
Lord. 

How striking is the example of this extraor- 
dinary man, and how full of instruction ! Does 
he pause, for a brief space on his journey 1 It 
seems to be the first object of his care to make 
the necessary provision for the worship of God. 
An altar is erected for purposes, there is reason 
to believe, of public as well as of domestic 
worship. Abraham's numerous family indeed 



JOURNEY FROM HARAN TO BETHEL 



45 



would form a very considerable congregation ; 
and when strangers came in, as they would 
naturally do to witness and sometimes to parti- 
cipate in the solemnities of the sacrifice, it 
would possess all the essential elements o£ pub- 
lic worship. 

May we not look upon Abraham's family, as 
at this time the only praying family in the world, 
excepting perhaps such as may have been con- 
verted through his instrumentality? Of these, 
however, we have no record. Nahor appears 
to have been but partially imbued with the true 
spirit of religion ; as to Melchizedek, we know 
too little of his character to pronounce with 
certainty whether he formed an exception. At 
all events, there is reason to conclude, that no 
where else, as in this favoured circle of wor- 
shipers assembled around the altar of Abra- 
ham, — no where else so intelligently and de- 
voutly was the God of heaven acknowledged 
and adored. This was comparatively the only 
spot of light amid the all-pervading darkness — 
a little solitary oasis in the universal desert. 
What a privilege to have belonged to that fami- 



46 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

l} r ! There peculiarly God's presence was found ; 
there peculiarly his blessing rested. Abraham's 
tent contained more of heaven than all the world 
besides : and in comparison with it, 

" Tents of ease and thrones of power" 

were but an image of restlessness and sorrow. 
Happy are they who dwell beneath the shadow 
of the altar; who are connected with families 
where God is worshiped, and where lessons of 
divine instruction are communicated. Happy 
are those parents who imitate the patriarch's 
example, and happy those children who share 
in the heavenly influence of their instructions 
and prayers ! 

But alas, how many are favoured with all 
these advantages, who yet neither appreciate nor 
improve them How often do we see the youth 
who has always lived under the sound of pray- 
er, the delicate and cherished daughter, who 
from her earliest years has been taught to kneel 
at the household altar, while the voice of earn- 
est entreaty went up from the father's lips — 
turning away with proud indifference, and 



JOURNEY FROM HARAN TO BETHEL. 47 

choosing her portion amongst the thoughtless 
and profane ! She has virtually rejected her 
father and her mother's God. She has cast 
away the blessing which was put into her hand, 
and broken, as it were, from the golden girdle 
of the covenant. Pleasure may smile around 
her for a season ; but let her " remember the 
days of darkness, for they are many." She 
may forsake her father and her mother's God ; 
she may despise the best blessing they can be- 
stow in life, and the richest legacy they can 
bequeath in death ; but let her not forget what 
God hath spoken, — " They that despise me, 

t shall be lightly esteemed." " They that have 
hated knowledge and did not choose the fear of 

| the Lord, shall eat of the fruit of their own way 
and be filled with their own devices." 

Still oftener will the young man, the son 
around whom the parents' love once threw the 
vow of promise, go out from the hallowed circle 
of Christian sympathies and instructions and in- 
tercessions, only to mingle with the giddy and 
float down the tide of sin, casting off fear and 
ripening for ruin. But although these sons and 



48 THE PATRIARCH OP HEBRON. 

daughters of piety and prayer may glide along 
for a season, in undisturbed security, they carry 
with them a dreadful responsibility. It can 
never be with them, as with those who have 
grown up in the darker places of life, where the 
voice of prayer is never heard. A father's fer- 
vent supplications, a mother's tender entreaties 
will follow them into every walk of sinful gaie- 
ty and every corner of secret vice, to enhance 
their guilt, to give a deeper dye to every sin in 
which they indulge, and to make more agonis- 
ing at last the remorse of an accusing con- 
science. What can be more distressing, in the 
dark hour of adversity or on a dying bed, than 
the remembrance of prayers and instructions in 
early life, from the lips of parental love, disre- 
garded and abused ! How dreadful then the 
thought, — " I have hated instruction and des- 
pised reproof! I have set at naught the wisest 
counsels, and turned away, with scorn, from the 
most solemn warnings! I have converted into 
scorpion stings, those prayers which, as they 
went up to heaven, might have been treasured 
there as a fountain of life to my soul !" 



JOURNEY FROM HARAN TO BETHEL. 49 

Yet the history of the household altar is more 
frequently written in characters of mercy. On 
it burns a flame which spreads a cheering puri- 
fying light through the dwelling, though it be 
the abode of poverty and sorrow ; a light which 
often lives on long after they who kindled it 
have departed from the living, and brightens 
into piety and gladness along the path of fu- 
ture generations. Who can tell how cjosely 
the rich cloud which Abraham saw suspended 

I full of blessings over his posterity, was connect- 

• ed with the prayers he offered at the altar in 
Moreh, in Bethel, and in Hebron ! And who 
will dare provoke the vengeance of him who 

I will " pour out his fury on the families that call 

J not on his name." 

But, as has been intimated, we have an ex- 

! ample here for the maintenance of public as 
well as private devotion. The altar in Moreh 
and in Bethel, may be looked upon as the gene- 
ral gathering place of the devout ; there sacri- 
fices were offered in behalf of all who came to 
seek the Lord ; and there the voice of the man 
of God was heard in fervent prayer, and doubt- 
5 



50 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

less also in earnest exhortation.* The spot thus 
consecrated was a sort of temple, where not 
merely a single family, but large numbers 
might unite in religious worship. 

Thus we see Abraham, at each stage of his 
journey, erecting altars for this two-fold purpose. 
Yet he was but a traveller. Few travellers, 
like him, make it the first object of their care, 
wherever they stop, to provide for the worship 
of their kind preserver. Let them be rebuked 
by the example of this ancient pilgrim. And 
how much more should they who have planted 
themselves down for life, take pains to plant 
there the institutions of religion ; to rear, not 
only for their own benefit but for the benefit of 
the community around them, an altar for the 
service of the most high ; and make provision 
for the offering thereon of the stated sacrifice. 

* The expression, " he called upon the name of 
the Lord," Gen. 12: 8, imports, in the original, that 
he not only prayed but preached, joining 1 exhorta- 
tion and instruction to devotion. 



CHAPTER III. 



AN EXAMPLE OF HUMAN INFIRMITY, 



" Virtue has her relapses, conflicts, foes; 
And much forgiveness need her purest sons.' 



In the preceding chapters," we have seen 
Abraham departing from Chaldea, and after a 
long and circuitous pilgrimage, arriving in the 
land of Canaan. Ignorant himself both of the 
destination and of the way, his course seems to 
have been providentially directed. It was cir- 
cuitous and slow, that he might have a better 
opportunity of making known extensively to the 
scattered population of the countries through 
which he passed, that religion of which he was 
the chief depository and the chosen channel to 
mankind. Thus he fulfilled the office of a tra- 
velling missionary, " visiting," as one has said, 
" the main portions of the inhabited world." 
How impressive a spectacle to the nations, this 



52 



THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 



goodly emir, this distinguished prince, with his 
extensive retinue, traversing the earth, not tor 
war and conquest, but for purposes of religion 
and benevolence !" Doubtless this is the true 
idea of his character. Like a modern sheik or 
emir, he possessed great riches, (which were 
constantly increasing under the blessing of God,) 
held an exalted rank in personal dignity, and 
commanded universal respect ; and at the same 
time like an ambassador of the Most High, he 
rebuked the ignorance and errors of his age, and 
proclaimed, wherever he went, the doctrines of 
a purer faith. 

Taking possession of not a particle of the 
land to which he emigrated, he was content to 
be " a stranger and a sojourner," removing 
from one locality to another as his own circum- 
stances, or the voice of his heavenly guide di- 
rected. In those days, little was known of the 
comforts and advantages of home. In fact, 
home is a word, the full meaning of which has 
never been understood, except where it has been 
revealed by the broad light of Christianity. No 
where else has its power to elevate and bless, 



AN EXAMPLE OF HUMAN INFIRMITY. 53 

to refine the manners and expand the soul, to 
hold vice in restraint and give impulse to virtue, 
to heighten the joys of prosperity, and enliven 
the hours of sorrow, been fully developed. Its 
clustering blessings have been known only in 
union with the Christian religion. They were 
experienced neither in the tents of the godly pa- 
triarchs, nor in the palaces of the refined Greeks 
and Romans. And as for the present heathen 
world, the term, where it exists, denotes little 
more than the place where man exercises his 
individual tyranny, where woman toils in servi- 
tude, and where children grow up strangers to 
I domestic endearments, ignorant, wretched, and 
vile. They, therefore, who are blessed with a 
happy home, where they may always flee from 
a troubled world, should remember that for this 
and for all their best enjoyments, they are in- 
debted to the religion of Jesus Christ. O how 
does that religion, like the sun that continually 
scatters light over every orb of its system, while 
it carries them all with it in the journey of its 
I own vast cycle, diffuse lustre and joyousness 
) through every ordinary walk of life, making 
5* 



54 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

time's wilderness blossom like the rose, while 
it fulfils its still worthier office of bearing its vo- 
taries onward through the glorious revelations 
of eternity ! 

A short time after the arrival of Abraham, 
the whole country of Canaan was visited with 
a famine. Famines were a very common evil 
in Palestine. Sometimes they were caused by 
locusts or other insects, which cut off vegetation 
and left the earth almost as desolate as if scath- 
ed with fire ; but more frequently they were oc- 
casioned by drought. To escape from this ca- 
lamity, Abraham resolved on removing for a 
season to Egypt, a country where the soil, an- 
nually watered from the Nile, was not depend- 
ent, like Palestine, on periodical rains. It is 
now that we discover the first dark spot on the 
hitherto bright surface of his moral history. 
The circumstances are thus related by the faith- 
ful biographer : 

11 And it came to pass, when he was come 
near to enter into Egypt, that he said unto Sa- 
rai his wife, Behold now I know that thou art a 
fair woman to look upon : therefore it shall 



AN EXAMPLE OF HUMAN INFIRMITY. 55 

come to pass, when the Egyptians shall see 
thee, that they shall say, This is his wife : and 
they will kill me, but they will save thee alive. 
Say, I pray thee, thou art my sister : that it 
may be well with me for thy sake; and my 
soul shall live because of thee." Gen. 12: 11 
—13. 

We will in the first place, attend to these cir- 
cumstances a little more minutely, and secondly, 
attend to the moral aspect of - Abraham's con- 
duct. 

I. The circumstances of his conduct deserve 
attention. Abraham was about to enter the 
i dominions, perhaps the capital city, of one of 
j the greatest monarchs of the time. He was 
\ himself a plain man, unschooled in the arts of 
| luxurious vice ; but, in some way or other, he 
I was led to apprehend danger from his visit to 
Egypt ; he might have heard of the licentious- 
ness of Pharaoh ; and it was well that he put 
himself on his guard. Sarai was beautiful. Her 
charms, he feared, would prove the ruin of them 
both. There was reason in this; for such have of- 
ten been the consequences of beauty without dis- 



56 



THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 



cretion, and sometimes even in despite of it. 
Abraham's solicitude, therefore, is indicative of 
wisdom, and deserves commendation. To enter 
such a place as the Egyptian capital required 
circumspection, especially under his peculiar cir- 
cumstances. And the event proved that his fears 
were far from groundless. The king was cap- 
tivated with the beautiful stranger. His cour- 
tiers had seen her, and had given such glowing 
representations of her beauty, that Pharaoh re- 
solved to give her a place among the favourite 
ladies of his court. She was accordingly taken 
to his palace. Alas for Abraham ! Disgrace 
and the ruin of his domestic peace seemed inevi- 
table. But God remembered him at this crisis, 
and he was mercifully preserved from the ca- 
lamity which he feared. 

But, though he had great occasion for solici- 
tude, the means to which he resorted for securi- 
ty, were in the highest degree reprehensible. 
According to an agreement which, it would ap- 
pear from a subsequent part of the history,* they 

*Gen. 20: 13. 



AN EXAMPLE OF HUMAN INFIRMITY. 57 

had entered into soon after leaving Chaldea, 
Sarai was to pass as the sister of her husband. 
In anticipation of danger, they had formed this 
plan prospectively as their best defence. And 
now when danger, as they supposed, actually 
threatened, they agreed, at Abraham's sugges- 
tion, that it be put in execution. It accordingly 
was ; and the consequences were such as might 
have been foreseen. Sarai being universally re- 
garded as an unmarried woman, and the sister 
of a wealthy prince, attracted general admira- 
tion ; and it is no wonder that, under these cir- 
cumstances, the king should have sought to 
place her in his harem. But, as has been in- 
timated, God interposed in season to prevent 
the consummation of Pharaoh's design ; and 
by severe visitations of disease, convinced the 
king that he had done wrong in taking the 
beautiful stranger to his palace, and led him to 
suspect that she was the wife of Abraham. He 
immediately restored her to her husband, and 
with a reproof richly merited, sent him away 
with all his possessions. 

How remarkable the care of God over his 



58 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

erring servant ! It might have been expected 
that he would, at such a conjunction, leave him 
to his own devices. He had resorted to a most 
questionable expedient of human policy to se- 
cure his safety ; it would have been just to 
abandon him for a season to its legitimate ope- 
ration. But he who is of great long-suffering, 
was not strict to mark his transgression. He 
not only rescued Sarai, but withheld the king 
from those impulses of anger which would natu- 
rally have been excited by such an imposition. 
" The stranger has deceived me, and severely 
shall he suffer for it ! He has brought upon me 
these plagues, under which I and all my house- 
hold have been wasting in torture, ever since 
Sarai came under my roof. Guards, have him 
forth instantly from the city and see that he is 
punished according to his deserts !" Such lan- 
guage might have been looked for from the in- 
jured and indignant monarch. But instead of 
this, he speaks only in gentle tones ; his rebuke 
is mild and temperate : " What is this that thou 
hast done unto me ?" and he takes leave of him 
as of one who he knew was under the special 
guardianship of an Almighty Providence. 



AN EXAMPLE OF HUMAN INFIRMITY. 



59 



This we must regard as a striking example 
of the silent, yet certain protection which God 
extends over his children. The king's heart 
was in his hand, and he turned it at his plea- 
sure. We see not that hand moving on the 
monarch's heart, nor can we tell in what man- 
ner it acts in accomplishing the end designed ; 
but it is there stilling the rising passions and 
preventing the outbreak of violence. Thus the 

Lord preserveth the souls of his saints, and 
delivereth them out of the hand of the wicked." 
" Though they fall, they shall not be utterly 
cast down." Even when they wander from 
him, he will gently lead them back, as a father 
the children of his love. 

II. In the second place, we were to consider 
Abraham's conduct in this matter, in its moral 
aspect. It was indeed true, that Sarai was his 
sister, being the daughter of his father, though 
not of his mother ; and, therefore, it may be 
pleaded that the offence was not a direct and 
absolute lie. Yet it was an expedient to de- 
ceive ; it was intended to produce a false im- 
pression, and consequently had all the force 



60 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

and effect of a lie in its naked form. As such 
it must, accordingly, be considered ; for it is 
not so much the form as the design and effect 
of an act that gives it its character. Deception, 
intentional deception, is the very essence of 
falsehood ; and where this exists, it matters lit- 
tle what shape the language may be made to 
assume, or whether language or some other 
mode of expression be employed. 

It is moreover an aggravation of Abraham's 
offence, that he should have had recourse to 
such a means of safety, when he knew that the 
God of heaven stood pledged as his protector. 
" I will bless thee, and make thy name great, 
and thou shalt be a blessing : and I will bless 
them that bless thee, and curse him that curseth 
thee." What more could he desire ? How as- 
tonishing that with an assurance of the divine 
blessing, he should deem it necessary to shelter 
himself from danger under the thin and flimsy 
cover of equivocation! especially after such an 
exhibition of faith as we see in him hitherto. 
" Lord, what is man ?" 

And yet there is another aggravating circum- 



AN EXAMPLE OF HUMAN INFIRMITY. 61 

stance, which renders the case still more inex- 
cusable. No danger had as yet appeared. The 
plan was devised and agreed on in the utmost 
coolness of deliberation. On sudden emergen- 

] cies, when the instant pressure of calamity 
startles the fancy and confounds the reason, it 

i is not wonderful that good men should commit 
acts which their sober judgment would condemn. 
But to agree on such an act beforehand, when 
the sky is clear and scarcely a cloud of threat- 
ening evil is seen, would seem to argue a state 
of mind altogether inconsistent with a pious 

; trust in God. Yet Abraham's piety is beyond 

I suspicion ; and we must set his conduct in this 
as in some other instances hereafter to be no- 
ticed, to the account of human frailty. The 

j best may err ; and as Fuller sagaciously re- 

j marks, they often err most egregiously in re- 
spect to those very things in which their great- 
est excellencies consist. Abraham was dis- 

r tinguished for his confidence in God ; his prin- 
cipal transgressions indicate distrust in him. It 
would seem as if good men were most frequent- 
ly assaulted and led into sin, at the strongest 
6 



62 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

points of their character. Well might the psal- 
mist say, " I have seen an end of all perfection ; 
but thy commandment is exceeding broad." 
Let such examples teach us humility and can- 
dour — humility in estimating our own virtues, 
and candour in judging the faults of others. 

Let not the example of this distinguished ser- 
vant of God, however, throw a softening veil 
over the practice of deception. What crime can 
be mentioned, that might not plead the sanc- 
tion both of great and of pious names? All de- 
ception is to be condemned and avoided. It is 
destructive of that mutual confidence, without 
which there can be no happy and prosperous 
intercourse among men. If one resorts to its 
arts, another may do the same ; and what would 
the issue be but universal disorder? Therefore 
" Let every one speak the truth with his neigh- 
bour." Even in those cases where it appears 
most necessary, as a means and the only means 
of escaping sudden danger, it can only be re- 
garded as arising from distrust of the common 
providence of God. If your only defence is a 
lie, better tell the truth and suffer. 



AN EXAMPLE OF HUMAN INFIRMITY. 



63 



But deception is not only practised as a sort 
of defence from various sorts of danger ; but 
frequently to enliven and adorn the intercourse 
of polite society. How essential is it often to 
the refined elegancies of conversation ! It con- 
stitutes the very soul of flattery ; and many of 
the delicate compliments which are so artfully 
administered on the one hand, and so eagerly 
drunk in on the other, are composed of nothing 
else. How dull would that social circle often 
be, in which nothing was allowed to be spoken, 
that would not bear the rigid test of truth ! Is 
it said — no one is deceived by such refined 
forms of falsehood ? Why then employ them ? 
It surely argues a peculiarly vain and empty 
mind to be pleased with what is false, when its 
falsity is understood ; to be delighted with forms 
1 of deceit which have nothing but their empti- 
ness to recommend them. 

It is dangerous to indulge in such practices 
as these to any degree or for any purpose. The 
sacredness of truth being once violated, the re- 
gard which was felt for it is lost, or, at least, 
greatly diminished. Deceit, at first practised 



64 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

by one class, only in pressing emergencies, and 
by another, as a mere embellishment of dis- 
course, comes at length to be practised uncon- 
sciously till it becomes a fixed and pernicious 
habit. Thus one's character for veracity is 
lost ; he is suspected of lying even when he 
speaks the truth ; and every thing he utters is 
subjected to a liberal discount. 

This sin is classed by the sacred writers, 
among the most heinous and abominable crimes. 
It is embraced in the prohibition of the ninth 
commandment. It is often directly forbidden 
in the word of God. " Keep thy tongue from 
evil, and thy lips that they speak no guile." 
" Ye shall not lie one to another." The liar 
is peculiarly an abhorrence to the divine mind. 
"Lying lips are an abomination to the Lord." 
And of liars it is said, " They shall have their 
portion in the lake that bumcth with fire and 
brimstone." 



CHAPTER IV. 

THE SEPARATION: AN EXAMPLE OF DISINTEREST 
EDNESS, 

The selfish soul, insatiate like the sea, 
Is never full ; it would engross the wealth 
Of all the world, and murmur still for more- 
Wretched alike in affluence and want. 
But generous Virtue, almoner of heaven, 
Is happy only when dispensing good ; 
Oblivious of itself, its highest bliss 
It finds— not seeks— in making others blest. 

Anon. 

Having been dismissed by the Egyptian king 
in the manner just described, Abraham return- 
ed to the place of his former sojourn, among 
the hills of Bethel. It may not be improper to 
introduce here a statement of Josephus, which, 
though it may be deserving of little credit, sets 
the character of Abraham in a most interesting 
light. He relates that the patriarch, when in 
Egypt, laboured diligently, by reasoning with 
the pagan priests, to convince them of their 
folly in worshiping false gods ; that he held 
conferences with the people for the purpose of 
6* 



66 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

confuting their absurd arguments ; and sought 
with the utmost assiduity to convert them to his 
own purer and more rational religion. This 
account, in itself, is by no means improbable ; 
and if true, it affords a beautiful illustration of 
the zeal of this extraordinary man in the fulfil- 
ment of his office as a missionary. What fol- 
lows is of far more doubtful character. He 
states that Abraham taught the Egyptians arith- 
metic and astronomy, sciences first cultivated 
in Chaldea, the land of the patriarch's birth and 
education, and unknown in Egypt as Jose- 
phus would persuade us, tiil introduced there by 
this Chaldean stranger. Thus, if we may be- 
lieve the historian, he approved himself in Egypt 
on this occasion, more as a man of learning 
than as a man of truth. 

Josephus, no doubt, was very willing to exalt 
the character of his great national progenitor, 
in those traits which would gain the admiration 
of a pagan community. He might very natu- 
rally have been solicitous to commend him to 
the respect of the high-minded Romans, who 
cared little for the moral virtues unless they 



THE SEPARATION. 67 

were associated with heroism or philosophy. 
Hence, apparently, he was tempted, by step- 
ping beyond the lines of truth, to add to the 
patriarch's other merits, the praise of being the 
father of Egyptian learning. But it is unne- 
cessary to claim for him any such adventitious 
distinction. The honour which he received 
from God, as the Father of the Faithful, is 
infinitely greater than all earthly praise. As 
a man of distinguished virtue, the fragrance of 
his name is still preserved in the traditions of 
most of the Asiatic nations ; whose early fore- 
fathers may have known his character and 
perhaps heard his instructive voice in his exten- 
sive missionary journeys. 

Soon after Abraham's departure from Egypt, 
we find him worshiping again at the altar 
which he had reared some years before, in 
Bethel. There he renewed the sacrifice, with 
his heart lifted up to God in devout gratitude 
for his past mercies, and with his eye looking 
down through coming ages, to the predicted 
Messiah, the great appointed sacrifice for the 
sins of the world. We are expressly informed 



68 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

by our Saviour himself, that he had a joyful 
foresight of his coming ; that " he saw his day 
and was glad." And doubtless, while he wit- 
nessed the slain lamb consuming on the altar, 
he had a believing and an enrapturing view of 
Him, who was to be offered as a lamb slain 
from the foundation of the world, and whose 
blood alone could cleanse from all sin. It was 
thus the ancient saints found comfort in the 
otherwise cruel and unmeaning rites of their 
divinely-instituted worship. The types quick- 
ened their faith to a livelier apprehension of the 
antitype ; the shadows guided them in their 
search for the substance. And thus Christ, 
the atoning Saviour, has ever been the centre 
of the homage which the believing world has 
offered. Every believing eye has been turned 
to him from all quarters of the earth and all 
periods of time. And to all, he has ever 
spoken the same encouraging language — " I 
am the way, the truth, and the life." " Believe 
and thou shalt be saved." 

An event now occurs which places Abraham 
before us in a new attitude. Hitherto, we have 



THE SEPARATION. 69 

seen him acting always in a manner, it is true, 
which shows that he was not unreasonably 
devoted to his own selfish interests ; but now 
his disinterested generosity blazes forth with a 
lustre, which cannot fail to excite the highest 
admiration. The incident referred to is thus 
related by the inspired historian : 

" And Lot also which went with Abram had 
flocks and herds and tents. And the land was 
notable to bear them, that they might dwell to- 
gether : for their substance was great, so that 
they could not dwell together. And there was 
a strife between the herdmen of Abram's cat- 
tle and the herdmen of Lot's cattle. And the 
Canaanite and the Perizzite dwelled then in 
the land. And Abram said unto Lot, let there 
be no strife, I pray thee, between me and thee, 
and between my herdmen and thy herdmen ; 
for we are brethren. Is not the whole land 
before thee? Separate thyself, I pray thee, 
from me : If thou wilt take the left hand, then 
I will go to the right : or if thou depart to the 
right hand, then I will go to ihe left." Gen. 
xiii. 5 — 9. 



70 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

Strife will sometimes arise between those 
who cherish towards each other the most 
friendly sentiments. If there be in the heart 
any thing inflammable, there is always enough 
in the world to furnish a spark for its ignition. 
A strife arose between Abraham and his 
nephew Lot, or rather between the keepers of 
their flocks and herds, which threatened to 
destroy the peace of the family. We will con- 
template, first, the occasion of the strife ; se- 
condly, the proposition made by Abraham for 
its suppression ; and thirdly, the spirit which 
that proposition indicated. 

I. What was the occasion of the strife ? The 
uncle and nephew appear to have had separate 
interests. Each had his own flocks and herds ; 
and each his own herdsmen. Their property 
was not held in common, but in shares. Such 
a division of it could hardly have happened, 
(unless it had existed from the first,) except for 
the gratification of Lot. May we not suppose 
that he was unduly anxious to have his pro- 
perty distinct from his uncle's, from a pride of 
wealth ? — a passion too common in the world, 



THE SEPARATION. 71 

and frequently operating as the bane of social 
harmony. Possibly we may detect here what 
is seen afterwards to be his ruling passion — an 
excessive desire of riches. In the division of 
property, however, there was nothing intrin- 
sically wrong ; and it may have been on the 
whole a wise expedient. There would un- 
questionably be more quarreling and conten- 
tion in the world, if each cluster of families 
should throw their property into common stock, 
than there is at present. As human nature is, 
there must necessarily for the public welfare 
be, to some extent, separate interests and sepa- 
rate objects of pursuit, though it often operates 
to the production of incidental evils. 

Both Abraham and Lot had .grown rich in 
flocks and herds ; and a considerable extent of 
country was needed for their support. The 
hills of Bethel were white with the multitude of 
sheep, and the cattle wandered restlessly about 
in search of pasturage in the plains. The 
Canaanite and Perizzite, who had some time 
before taken possession of the country, proba- 
bly gave them serious inconvenience, pre-occu- 



72 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

pying the best portion of the land, or preventing 
their free use of those parts where they dwelt. 
Thus straitened, the herdsmen of each party, 
interested for their respective masters, began to 
contend with each other. Each strove to get 
some advantage of his competitor; and since 
there was not enough for all, to secure as much 
as possible for the benefit of the party to which 
he belonged. The trouble became at length so 
serious, that it demanded immediate attention. 
Lot's own mind, it may be suspected, becoming 
in some measure dissatisfied and soured ; and 
Abraham, whose keen eye discovered the un- 
easiness of his nephew, resolved, if possible, to 
crush the evil in the bud. 

How much of the bickering and contention 
which exist in the world, proceeds from an 
excessive love of wealth ! Nothing more fre- 
quently than this disturbs the peace of families 
and breaks out in a flame of lasting hatred be- 
tween those who were once fast friends. How 
many breaches of friendship, how many quar- 
rels between brethren, how many vexatious 
law suits, how many permanently embittered 



THE SEPARATION. 73 

tempers, have sprung from this " root of all 
evil !" In moderate desires alone, there is 
safety and happiness. Most true is the saying 
of the wise man, — " He that is greedy of gain, 
troubleth his own house." And again, — " In 
the revenues of the wicked there is trouble." 
We shall have occasion to revert to this subject 
again, in a subsequent chapter, where a melan- 
choly illustration will be presented of the evils 
which flowed from the disposition of Lot as 
here exhibited. Let us consider now the pro- 
position made by Abraham to remove the dif- 
ficulty they were suffering. 

II. When it becomes a settled fact, that 
harmony can no longer exist between families 
or individuals, separation, however painful, is 
the only remedy. When a diseased member 
cannot be healed, it must be amputated ; else 
the whole body will suffer, perhaps perish, from 
its infection. Yet the process is most agonizing. 
Doubtless it was so to Abraham. His nephew 
had been his constant companion from the time 
of their removal from Chaldea. They had 
dwelt together hitherto in intimate and endear- 
7 



74 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

ing friendship. But the fondest affections must 
be sacrificed for the sake of peace. Solitude 
is better than society, when society can be had 
only at the price of domestic tranquillity. Few 
evils are more to be deprecated than strife be- 
tween friends ; and every thing but principle 
must be hazarded for its suppression. With 
such sentiments as these, Abraham takes his 
nephew to the summit of one of the hills of 
Bethel. "We are brethren," said he, " and 
contention must have no place between us." 
O that this consideration were sufficient to 
quench the rising flame ! But he knew, as has 
a thousand times since been proved in the 
world, that none are so bitter as the quarrels of 
brethren. Nothing could be relied on but a 
complete separation. Having arrived at a spot 
where an extensive view was afforded of the 
surrounding country, the patriarch, taking his 
nephew by the left hand, and pointing with the 
other to the rich valley of the Jordan which lay 
at their feet stretching far away toward the 
south, " See," said he, " Is not the whole land 
before thee ? Separate thyself, I pray thee, 



THE SEPARATION. 



75 



from me- If thou wilt take the left hand, then 
I will go to the right; or if thou depart to the 
right hand, then I will go to the left." Lot, in 
the eagerness of selfish desire, looked forth 
upon that well watered and fertile valley ; he 
saw already there the promise of abundant 
wealth ; dazzling images of future greatness 
danced before his mind ; and his choice was 
fixed without delay. It is by no means certain, 
that Lot, with all his apparent avarice, was 
not a man of piety. We are unwilling to be- 
lieve that he should have lived so long under 
the influence of the godly Abraham, without 
imbibing something of his spirit. True indeed 
it is, that religion is not to be communicated by 
contact. But in a well-ordered family, where 
God is regularly worshiped, and piety is the 
presiding and all-pervading principle, we have 
a right to expect that the inmates will feel its 
power, and generally submit their hearts to its 
control. That this was true of Lot. seems not 
altogether improbable, especially when we 
consider the import of the epithets applied to 



76 



THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 



him by Peter,* who calls him a "just," a 
"righteous," and in immediate connexion, by 
implication, a " godly" man. But what an in- 
consistency ! Strange union of contrary ele- 
ments — the love of God and the love of the 
world ! Yet such a paradox is exhibited, more 
or less by every believer in the present imper- 
fect state — 

" An heir of heaven, and walking thitherward ; 

Yet casting back a covetous eye on earth ; 

Emblem of strength and weakness ; loving now, 

And now abhorring sin ; 

A man willing to do, and doing not ; 

Doing, and willing not ; embracing what 

He hates, what most he loves abandoning." 

Covetousness — an inordinate desire of worldly 
good, of wealth, power, or distinction, especially 
of wealth, is, in these days, the easily besetting 
sin of Christians. Their thirst for gain appears 
often much stronger than for godliness ; and 
like Lot, they are generally ready to pitch their 
tent wherever Mammon promises them the 

* 2 Peter ii. 7, 8. 



THE SEPARATION. 



richest harvests, though at the sacrifice of in- 
finitely more valuable advantages. He did not 
inquire, or if he was aware of the fact, he did 
not stop to consider, what was the character of 
the inhabitants of the plain ; nor what fatal 
hazard to himself and his family he might in- 
cur by taking up his residence among them. 
These considerations should have weighed far 
more in his mind, than the fairest prospect of 
worldly wealth or greatness ; for " what is a 
man profited if he gain the whole world, and 
lose his own soul." Reflections like these 
seem not to have entered his mind in choosing 
his place of settlement. The plain of the Jor- 
dan was the only paradise to him, though the 
men who dwelt there " were wicked, and sin- 
ners before the Lord exceedingly." The con- 
sequences, as we shall see hereafter, were most 
disastrous : his riches were consumed ; his 
wife struck dead ; and he left to wander an 
exile in the earth. 

III. We are now to contemplate the temper 
of mind which was exhibited in Abraham's 
conduct on this occasion. He was the elder, 



78 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRONo 

and in a certain sense the guardian of Lot. 
The latter had no claim upon him for any- 
special favour in the settlement of this difficulty. 
If therefore any advantage was granted him, it 
was a pure gratuity, and indicative of a most 
generous spirit. But, in the first place, we 
cannot but bestow a momentary notice on the 
pacific temper of the patriarch. He could not 
bear to live amid turmoil and contention. Peace 
was the atmosphere in which his soul delighted. 
He felt the force of the sentiments so beautifully 
expressed many hundred years afterwards by 
the Psalmist — " Behold, how good and how 
pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in 
amity. It is as the dew of Hermon, and as the 
dew that descended upon the mountains of 
. Zion : for there the Lord commanded the bless- 
ing, even life for evermore." Whatever is vir- 
tuous in the human heart, every principle and 
feeling of heavenly origin, must necessarily 
suffer amid the storms of strife and the murki- 
ness of discontent. As the stone cast into the 
calm lake, in whose unruffled surface was re- 
flected every object upon the bank and every 



THE SEPARATION. 79 

passing cloud above it, disturbs the clear waters 
and confounds every beautiful image reflected 
there ; so do the impulses of passion create a 
turmoil in the breast and destroy every divine 
impression that had been formed in the soul. 

There are four steps pointed out by the 
devout Thomas a Kempis, for securing peace : 
1. "Constantly endeavour to do the will of 
another, rather than thy own : 2. Constantly 
choose rather to want less, than to have more : 
3. Constantly choose the lowest place, and to 
be humble to all : and 4. Constantly desire 
and pray, that the will of God may be accom- 
plished in thee, and concerning thee." " He 
that doeth this," he adds, " enters into the 
region of rest and peace." These are maxims 
of distinguished wisdom. Let them be ponder- 
ed and practised, and contention shall flee 
away and be known no more. When, O 
when shall the golden period come, when strife 
shall disappear from the tabernacles of Zion ; 
when wranglings and wordy war with bitter- 
ness of heart, shall no more disturb the inter- 
course of Christians ; when all who bear the 



80 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

name of the meek and lowly Jesus, shall 
imbibe his spirit and love one another with a 
pure heart — fervently ! Then may we expect 
the sword of national warfare to be sheathed 
for ever ; and battles and bloodshed will exist 
only in the history of the past. " Blessed are 
the peace-makers, for they shall be called the 
children of God." 

Again : we are to contemplate Abraham's 
generosity, as displayed in the incident related. 
See him standing on that high eminence over- 
looking the course of the Jordan ; mark his 
manly dignity of mein ; his composed counte- 
nance ; his elevated, benevolent brow ; his eye 
beaming with benignity and kindness ; and ob- 
serve how calm, and at the same time, how full 
of affection are the tones of his voice. He 
looks and speaks as one elevated above the 
region of earth's low cares and disquietudes. 
He was very rich, we are told, " in cattle, in 
silver, and in gold." But, unlike the common 
mass of men, he did not idolize his wealth, nor 
eagerly grasp at more in proportion as his pos- 
sessions increased. " Behold," (this is the pur- 



THE SEPARATION. 



81 



port of his language to his companion) " be- 
hold this wide and goodly land, on the one 
side broken into craggy hills and deep valleys, 
and, on the other, spreading out in a well 
watered and fruitful plain. I am thine elder, 
and might justly claim the right of choosing 
for myself whatever part of the land I please ; 
— but no : I value peace infinitely more than 
any worldly advantage. Rather than there 
should be strife between us — choose for thyself 

i a portion wherever thou wilt. Take the pre- 
cedence ; I freely yield it, that the voice of dis- 
sension may no more be heard in our tents." 
Admirable condescension, how rare in this sel- 
fish world ! The elder submits to the younger, 

! the superior to the inferior, waiving the rights 
of birth and age and divine appointment, to 
quell the rising spirit of discontent, and restore 
the broken empire of peace. Ah, how much 
domestic trouble, how much misery in society, 

| how much expenditure of blood and treasure 
in national conflicts, might thus have been pre- 
vented ! It requires only a little humility. But 

I the selfish heart revolts from such a sacrifice 



82 



THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 



of its independence. When offence has been 
given and a quarrel has ensued, Pride exclaims, 
" I cannot waive my rights for the sake of re- 
conciliation. I am not the offender : the other 
party did the wrong. Let therefore the other 
party make reparation, at least confess the 
wrong, and take the first measures for a resto- 
ration of harmony." And so Pride folds him- 
self up in his dignity, and the quarrel rages 
undiminished. But Pride is blind. It is mag- 
nanimous to condescend and forgive. Let the 
film be removed from his eye, let him be pointed 
to the noble-hearted patriarch on the summit 
of Bethel, who never did himself more honour 
than when receding from his rightful preroga- 
tives. Thus let Pride be shamed into a meek 
yet noble condescension. One spark of Abra- 
ham's magnanimous generosity would explode 
this false show of independence, and induce a 
temper which would hush half the tempests of 
the moral world. 

We are assured by unerring authority, that 
" the liberal soul shall be made fat ;" and the 
history of the benevolent proves it to be true. 



THE SEPARATION, 83 

Abraham lost nothing by his generosity. He 
doubtless returned with peculiar and heart-felt 
satisfaction, to his tent amid the rough hills of 
Canaan, which if less luxuriantly fertile than 
the vale of the Jordan, were consecrated by the 
visitations of Jehovah. But the quiet satisfac- 
tion of an approving conscience was not his only 
reward. He was divinely directed, from some 
lofty eminence, to look abroad northward and 
southward, and eastward and westward. The 
j whole extent of country which thus came with- 
1 in the scope of his survey, he was assured by a 
I voice from heaven, should be given to him and 
his seed, for a perpetual possession. He had, 
! therefore, no occasion to regret his liberality to 
j Lot. If he gave him the choice of the best 
part, he secured to himself a grant of the whole 
I from the Lord. So shall it ever be with the 
I truly benevolent. For every measure of their 
j charity, they shall receive seven fold into their 
| own bosoms from the hand of God. And 
; should not the bond be fully discharged in the 
j present world, the arrears, with abundant inte- 
] rest, shall be paid in the next. A cringing 



84 



THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 



parsimony may swell its little gains for a sea- 
son ; but it is the parent and presage of future 
poverty — a state of want which no charity can 
relieve and no sympathy can solace. 

Soon after the removal of Lot, Abraham also, 
in obedience to divine direction, and not at the 
suggestion of avarice, removed from Bethel to 
the plains of Mamre in Hebron : where he 
appears to have spent the larger portion of the 
residue of his life. From this circumstance, 
we call him the Patriarch of Hebron. Here, 
as at every other place of his sojourn, he 
manifested the governing principle of his soul, 
by erecting an altar for the worship of God. 
By these monuments of piety and devotion, 
every stage of his pilgrimage was marked ; 
and happy are they, who, at a dying hour, 
shall be able to trace their journey through 
life, by monuments of equal interest and worth. 
Each altar, with its burning sacrifice, was a 
light-tower to illumine his path to the skies. 



CHAPTER V. 

ABRAHAM DELIVERS LOT FROM CAPTIVITY. 

Terrific war ! dire scourge of nations—foe 

Of all things good, and source of every wo— 

Time's earliest records tell thy monster birth, 

But soon thy power shall perish from the earth ; 

Thy hecatombs have bled on every shore,— 

The day is near when they shall bleed no more. Anon. 

All history is full of the horrors of war. If 
j we had no other evidence of the deep depravity 
of mankind than their readiness, often for the 
slightest causes, to fight and slaughter each 
other, sending hundreds, sometimes thousands, 
i in a few hours, into the eternal world, and 
filling whole communities with terror and with 
suffering, even this would be evidence suf- 
ficiently conclusive. The beasts of the field 
may fight, because they have neither reason to 
disclose to thern the evils of war, nor conscience 
to impress on them its criminality, nor the 
| power of sympathy in sufficient strength to 
1 feel for another's sufferings. Beasts of prey 
8 



86 



THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 



may fight, because, in addition to all this, it is 
their nature to live by the destruction of in- 
ferior animals. Nevertheless, neither of these 
classes make systematic war on their fellows 
of the field or the forest. A sharp contest may 
arise in a moment of rage, and a fierce en- 
counter from the impulse of hunger ; and in 
both cases there may ensue suffering and death. 
But widely different from this, is war in the 
hands of man. A small provocation, which a. 
magnanimous spirit would have overlooked, 
has involved kingdoms in all the miseries of 
war, for years in succession. Cities have been 
pillaged and burned, women and children car- 
ried away as slaves, and the flower of mighty 
nations cut down as grass by the mower's 
hand. All this has sometimes happened to 
gratify a king's ambition. He desired a broader 
extent of country to reign over, or the name of 
a victorious warrior. And for this, thousands 
must die on the field of battle, and perhaps tens 
of thousands mourn their death, and pine in 
captivity and wretchedness. 

Scarcely any other animal will prey upon 



DELIVERS LOT FROM CAPTIVITY. 87 

his own race. Man wages war against his 
feilow-man. He does it, as has been intimated, 
systematically. The ingenuity of the sagacious 
is put to its utmost stretch of invention, and 
months are consumed, in devising the most 
effectual means to injure, oppress, overthrow, 
and sometimes to exterminate those whom God 
made of the same blood, to dwell in harmony 
and love. Scarcely any spectacle could be 
more shocking, or more humiliating to human 
nature, than a collection of all the implements 
of torture and death, which, in different ages, 
have been employed by the various tribes of 
men, in their conflicts with each other. 

The art, or at least, the practice of war is of 
early origin. The first instance recorded in 
authentic history, occurred in the time of Abra- 
ham, and is given in the 14th chapter of Gene- 
sis. The five kings of the Plain of Jordan 
where Lot dwelt, had been for twelve years 
subject to Chedorlaomer, king of Elam. At 
length, however, they rebelled ; and this 
brought on a war, in which Chedorlaomer 
with three other petty sovereigns conquered 



88 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

the kings of the plain in the valley of Siddim, 
a part of the present site of the Dead Sea. 
Among the captives, they carried away Lot 
and his family, with all his moveable posses- 
sions. Lot began now to lament the choice 
which he had made of the rich plain of the 
Jordan. This, however, was only the begin- 
ning of his sorrows. As he pursued his weary 
way in the rear of the victorious army, antici- 
pating nothing but a long and slavish captivity 
in a land of tyrants, how must the remembrance 
of the wealth which he had just lost, and the 
society of the pious Abraham which long before 
he had abandoned apparently with little reluct- 
ance, have embittered his distress. Let us, in 
imagination, follow him as he moves forward, 
closely guarded by his captors. One day after 
another had worn heavily away, and night 
again was coming on, though with little pro- 
mise of relief for the miserable captives. The 
victors, exulting in the success of their expedi- 
tion, were preparing for a night of festivity and 
mirth. Star after star had broken forth into 
brightness in the heavens ; a delightful coolness 



DELIVERS LOT FROM CAPTIVITY. 89 

was restoring the wasted energies of the 
soldiers, as, after their sultry march, they lay 
carelessly about the camp ; but Lot and his 
company, closely watched by the guard, were 
restless and melancholy. It was now near the 
middle watch ; and the voice of revelry began 
to swell loud and high in the leaders' tents. 
Presently a sound is heard from without the 
camp, like that of the trampling of many feet. 
Then it dies away amid the noisy exultation of 
the revellers. Soon it becomes distinctly audi- 
ble. Lot now catches the sound, and raising 
himself from the earth, recognizes the voice of 
his uncle Abraham, commanding a long train 
of well-armed followers instantly to attack the 
camp, and rescue the captives. With his three 
hundred and eighteen servants, assisted as it 
appears, by some of the neighbouring tribes, 
Abraham had no difficulty in effecting his pur- 
pose. The battle was soon over. The army 
was defeated and the captive family delivered. 
The fugitive kings, however, were chased as 
far as Damascus; and then the servants re- 
turned. Joyful was the meeting between the 



S 



# 



90 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

patriarch and his grateful kinsman ; and most 
happy was the rescued group, as they gathered 
around their deliverer, and heard him tell how 
one escaping from the battle where they had 
been captured* had given him information of 
the event ; and how, with rapid march and 
heart lifted up to God, he had hastened to their 
rescue. 

Such may we suppose to have been the cir- 
cumstances of the scene, on the only occasion 
in which Abraham appears in the character of 
a soldier. To that occasion he did ample jus- 
tice ; and few of the celebrated heroes of an- 
tiquity could have conducted the expedition 
with more sagacity, or merited, in the result, 
higher honour. It is believed to be in allusion 
to this victory of the patriarch over these 
enemies of God, that Isaiah says — " He gave 
them as the dust to his sword, and as driven 
stubble to his bow." We would not wish, 
however, to claim for Abraham, the glory of 
a military conqueror. His is a far higher and 
more imperishable renown. 

He appears not only to have delivered Lot, 



DELIVERS LOT FROM €APT1VITY. 91 

but all the other captives, together with the 
spoils which had been taken with them. The 
spoils were restored to the owners, Abraham 
nobly refusing to receive even a " shoe-latchet," 
as a remuneration for his services. To him it 
was reward enough that he had saved the suf- 
ferers from the horrors of captivity and the 
dreariness of exile. 

On his return from this expedition, he was 
met by Melchizedek king of Salem, afterward 
Jerusalem, who is supposed to have been a 
righteous and peaceful prince, a worshiper 
and priest of the Most High God, and a friend 
of Abraham, though of a far superior rank. 
He came forth and presented the victorious 
Patriarch with refreshments of bread and wine, 
and pronounced on him the blessing of that 
God whom they both devoutly worshiped. 
To him, as Priest of Jehovah, Abraham, in 
turn, gave a tenth part of all which he had 
taken from the enemy, the spoils not having 
been, at that time, distributed among the right- 
ful possessors. This Melchizedek was a dis- 
tinguished type of Christ.* 

* Heb. vii. 



92 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

We have, in the preceding narrative, a beau- 
tiful exemplification of a particular Providence. 
A fugitive from among the vanquished, gives 
intelligence of the defeat and the capture to 
Abraham. That fugitive was one of his neigh- 
bours and confederates. The alarm was given 
just in time to afford Abraham an opportunity 
to overtake the army and despoil it of its prey. 
He overtook it at night, and made the attack 
under circumstances which gave his little com- 
pany an advantage over a force probably ten- 
fold more powerful. In all these particulars it 
is interesting to notice the hand of God, so 
arranging events as naturally to induce the 
happy issue — the deliverance of Lot. Thus 
God watches over his people, and by means 
often the most simple, but, at the same time, 
most unexpected, accomplishes his benevolent 
purposes concerning them. 



CHAPTER VI. 

THE CONFIRMATION OF THE COVENANT. 

" Thee let the fathers own, 

And thee, the sons adore ; 
Join'd to the Lord in solemn vows 

To be forgot no more. 

Thy covenant may they keep, 

And bless the happy bands, 
Which closer still engage their hearts 

To honour thy commands." 

Already Abraham had been assured in the 
communications which he had received from 
heaven, that his posterity should be, like the 
dust of the earth, innumerable. Nevertheless, 
the voice of infancy had not as yet been heard 
in his tent ; and he began to have some mis- 
givings concerning the fulfilment of the promise. 
On another occasion when God declared to him? 
" I am thy shield, and thy exceeding great re- 
ward^' the patriarch expressed some solicitude, 
lest he should have no other heir than Eliezer, 
the steward of his house. But his solicitude 
was soon dispelled. The divine promise was 



94 



THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 



repeatedly renewed, and with a solemnity which 
left no room for doubt. 

One night he was by a secret influence led 
forth alone into the open fields under the cloud- 
less canopy of heaven. Every thing was silent 
around him, and a delightful train of holy me- 
ditation was awakened in his mind. Countless 
stars were looking down upon him, like so 
many guardian eyes. In the midst of his re- 
flections, a celestial voice commands him to 
observe that multitude of shining orbs. He 
gazed upon them ; but his sight was dazzled by 
their number and their brightness. " Even so," 
said the voice, " shall thy seed be ;" and the 
childless man, though now far advanced in years 
yielded up his soul in perfect reliance on the 
word of the Almighty benefactor. " He be- 
lieved, and it was counted to him for righteous- 
ness." 

The promise was further ratified by a cove- 
nant, in a form, and with solemnities common 
in such transactions at that early age, and not 
unknown among eastern nations even to a com- 
paratively late period. " A sacrifice was offer- 



CONFIRMATION OF THE COVENANT. 95 

ed, the victims exactly divided, and the con- 
tracting parties passed between the two halves, 
which lay opposite to each other. Abraham 
offered a heifer of three years old, a she goat 
of three years old, a turtle dove, and a young 
pigeon. These he divided, except the birds, 
and sat watching till the evening, lest the birds 
of prey should alight upon them. As the sun 
declined, a deep sleep fell upon him, and more 
than common darkness spread around. A 
voice announced the fact of his posterity, their 
servitude of four centuries in a foreign land, 
their return, and their possession of the whole 
territory from the Euphrates to the sea. As the 
sun set, the symbol of the deity, a cloud of 
smoke like that of a furnace, and a flashing fire 
like that of a lamp, passed between the severed 
victims, and thus solemnly ratified the cove- 
nant." 

After a season, notwithstanding the miracu- 
lous manner in which God had confirmed his 
promise, doubts returned both to Abraham and 
Sarah. The promise was still unfulfilled. 
Sarah, therefore, has recourse to a custom 



96 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

which remains to this day in some parts of the 
eastern world. The lawful wife substitutes a 
slave in her own place ; and the children pro- 
ceeding from the connexion have the same rank 
and privileges, and are accounted, in every re- 
spect the same as her own. Thus Hagar, an 
Egyptian slave bore a son to Abraham, who 
received the name of Ismael, or Ishmael. His 
history will be given more at large, in a subse- 
quent chapter. The conduct of Abraham, in 
listening to the proposition of his wife, although 
in perfect accordance with the customs of that 
age, cannot by any means be justified. And 
perhaps the long trial to which his faith was 
afterwards subjected, may justly be regarded as 
an expression of the divine displeasure, and, in 
some sense, as a punishment of this act. Ish- 
mael himself, as he grew up, became a source 
of great disquietude to his father, and his final 
dismission from the family seems to have been 
one of the severest trials of his life. Sin and 
sorrow are inseparable. 

But unjustifiable as the act certainly was, 
both in itself and as growing out of a distrust 



CONFIRMATION OF THE COVENANT. 97 

of the divine veracity ; it was no more a sin, in- 
trinsically considered, than the almost univer- 
sal practice of polygamy. In fact, it was the 
same thing. The female domestics of the fami- 
ly were commonly and by the sanction of cur- 
rent custom, ivives of the master. This is 
abundantly exemplified in the domestic history 
of Jacob. It is one of those things which were 
permitted* in ancient times, on account of the 
hardness of men's hearts ; but which were al- 
ways contrary to the laws of nature, and are 
now forbidden by the laws of God. 

After the birth of Ishmael, thirteen years 
passed ; and Ishmael was still the only child of 
Abraham. He was now ninety-nine years old 
while Sarah was ninety ; and both probably 
had well nigh abandoned all hope of seeing any 
other fulfilment of the promise than that which 
they had already received in the birth of Ish- 
mael. During this long interval of time, there 
had been an intermission of special communi- 
cations from above. God had not appeared to 

* Matt, xviii. 8. 



98 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

Abraham, and he was left to the cultivation of 
his heart with no other than the ordinary aid 
of the Divine Spirit. This may be looked upon 
as a confirmation of what has been intimated in 
respect to the divine disapprobation of his con- 
duct, in the marriage of Hagar. 

But at length the Lord appears ; and while 
the patriarch falls on his face before the bright- 
ness of his presence, declares himself to be the 
" Almighty God," able to do what he had pro- 
mised, and commands him to walk before him 
with a perfect heart. He then renews the cove- 
nant, engages to multiply him exceedingly, and 
to make him the father of many nations. In 
token of this, he changes his name from Abram 
to Abraham, which signifies the father of a 
great multitude. The provisions of the cove- 
nant, which had already received, as we have 
seen, the confirmation of fire, are now more 
fully stated. The covenant is declared to be 
an everlasting covenant, embracing the posteri- 
ty of Abraham in their generations. The di- 
vine favour is specially guarantied to them from 
age to age, unless they should cut themselves 



CONFIRMATION OF THE COVENANT. 



99 



off from its blessings, as they did at length by 
obstinate disobedience. The whole land of 
Canaan, also, is promised to Abraham and his 
posterity, as an everlasting possession. This 
part of the covenant, however, is, like the other, 
to be understood as conditional. All the bless- 
ings promised, might be forfeited by transgres- 
sion.* Sarah's name is likewise changed from 
Sarai to Sarah, signifying Princess, 

Besides all this, more deeply and permanent- 
ly to impress the minds of Abraham and his 
descendants, the fact that God had established 
an unfailing covenant with them, the bloody 
1 rite of circumcision was enjoined. This would 
1 serve, (1) as a general remembrancer of the 
divine promises ; (2) as the rainbow was ap- 
pointed as a sign that God would certainly ful- 
fil his engagement, never again to destroy the 
earth with a deluge, so this was to be a sign, 
that God would perform what he had promised 
to Abraham and his posterity ; and (3) it was 
to be observed as a sort of pledge on the part 

* See Deut. xxviii. 



100 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

of the recipients that they would abide by the 
covenant, accepting its provisions, and perform- 
ing its requirements. These three ideas seem 
to comprehend the purport and design of cir- 
cumcision. 

During these communications, the patriarch 
had arisen from the ground ; but, overcome 
with emotions of joy and at the same time with 
a sense of unworthiness, he prostrates himself 
again on the earth, and gives utterance to his 
feelings in a natural laugh. He silently won- 
ders at the divine mercy. " Is it possible that 
he, now almost a hundred years of age, after so 
long a period of ' hope deferred,' should yet 
rejoice with Sarah, the parent of a rising race?" 
Incredible as it may have appeared, he does not 
intimate a doubt. He only asks that Ishmael 
may not be supplanted by the yet unborn son 
of Sarah. How natural and how beautiful is 
the attachment of Abraham to his first born 
child. " O, that Ishmael might live before 
thee !" So tenderly does the father cling to 
the child that first awakened the parental feel- 
ing in his bosom. His request was granted ; 



CONFIRMATION OF THE COVENANT, 101 

God promised to bless Ishmael, to make him 
fruitful- — the father of a great nation. Sarah, 
however, was declared to be the destined mo- 
ther of the chosen race. Within one year the 
voice of her son would gladden his lonely tent, 
and they were directed to call him Isaac. 

The revelation being finished, " God went up 
from Abraham," ascending into heaven in a 
visible form, as our Saviour was taken up from 
the disciples. The patriarch hastened to per- 
form the painful rite prescribed. All the males 
of his household, including himself, Ishmael, 
and servants, were subjected to it before the 
setting sun, an instructive example of prompti- 
tude in the performance of duty. Thus the 
covenant received a double confirmation, first 
in the descent of the Divine presence to consume 
the sacrifice which Abraham had prepared ; 
and secondly in the solemn and standing rite of 
circumcision. 



9* 



CHAPTER VII. 

THE VISIT OF THE ANGELS. 

Angels, who wait around the Eternal Throne, 

Did leave their radiant spheres ofttimes of old, 

And with swift wing, descend to minister 

To man. E'en now, 'tis said, they come to wait 

Invisible on all the good, and keep 

Around the saints a guardianship of love. 

Anon. 

Abraham still sojourned in the plains of 
Mamre, near what was afterwards the city of 
Hebron. Toward the south and west was a 
long range of rough, rocky mountains, with 
here and there a spring of pure water, which 
sent down its limpid stream, freshening and fer- 
tilizing the verdant plains below. It was a 
wild, romantic region, precisely such as a shep- 
herd, fond of solitude and meditation, would 
have selected. Here, at mid-day, while the 
summer sun was pouring down a blaze which 
seemed almost to scorch the fields, and the 
flocks were panting beneath the covert of 
shady rocks and wide-spreading trees, the patri- 



VISIT OF THE ANGELS. 103 

arch sat at the door of his tent in the shade of 
a lofty terebinth. Lost in contemplation, he 
was scarcely sensible of surrounding objects, 
till raising his eyes, he beheld three human 
figures standing at no great distance from him. 
With that ready hospitality so remarkable 
among the inhabitants of those regions even to 
the present day, he hastened to meet and invite 
them to his tent. There in the cool shade of 
the sacred tree, he washed the strangers' feet ; 
and while they sat down to rest, gave orders 
with a glad heart for a simple but substantial 
entertainment. He went to the tent which was 
occupied by Sarah, and directed her to prepare 
cakes of flour baked on the hearth ; and select- 
ing a fine calf from the herd, gave directions 
that it should be dressed and made ready for 
the table. These viands, together with milk 
fresh and curdled, formed an entertainment suf- 
ficiently sumptuous for Abraham and his extra- 
ordinary guests. They partook of it in the 
open air, fanned by the refreshing breezes, under 
the shelter of the terebinth. The luxuries which 
have since enervated and destroyed mankind, 



104 



THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON 



were unknown among the simple hearted dwell- 
ers on the plains of Hebron. They were satis- 
fied with the gifts of nature, with but little of 
the refinements of art ; and uninterrupted health 
and long life were their reward. In addition 
to this, it may be observed that neither Abra- 
ham nor Sarah deemed it beneath them, to per- 
form what would now be considered menial of- 
fices, in waiting on their guests. Pride had not 
yet learned to exalt even the great above the 
necessary business of life. 

The rites of hospitality having been duly dis- 
charged, Abraham soon discovers that the 
strangers are no common men. One of them, 
who appeared to be superior in dignity to the 
rest, inquires for Sarah who had not yet made 
her appearance, and declares that the promise 
in respect to her shall soon be fulfilled in the 
birth of a son. She, standing unseen at the 
tent door, was heard to laugh, partly perhaps 
from surprise, but chiefly from incredulity. 
She could not believe the truth of the promise, 
often and solemnly as it had been repeated. 
And, in this instance, she was not only guilty 



VISIT OF THE ANGELS. 105 

of unbelief, but also of falsehood ; for when 
the mysterious visitant inquired — " Wherefore 
did Sarah laugh," she denied the fact through 
fear. There may be reason to suspect that 
Sarah, (and this is not of rare occurrence) was 
as weak in character as she was beautiful in per- 
son ; and some have expressed a doubt whether 
she was at this time possessed of genuine 
piety. However this may be, she was mani- 
festly deficient in some of the qualities which 
are essential to the idea of a virtuous, godly 
and high-minded woman. 

The strangers now took their departure, 
while Abraham accompanied them on the way 
toward Sodom. Before this time, he must have 
discovered that one of his guests was no other 
than the Divine Being himself in human form. 
The others were probably only angelic attend- 
ants. As they travelled on, the Lord, — for so 
the superior visitant is called in the sequel of 
the narrative, — communicated to Abraham the 
dreadful fact, that the cities of the plain, where 
Lot dwelt, were about to be destroyed on 
account of their great wickedness. And while 



106 



THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 



the two attendants pursued their way, the pious 
patriarch, whose heart yearned over his beloved 
nephew, stood and entreated for the devoted 
cities. Their approaching fate was made known 
to him, because he had found favour with the 
Lord, and was to " become a great and mighty 
nation." " For," said the celestial visitant, 
" I know him, that he will command his chil- 
dren and his household after him, and they 
shall keep the way of the Lord, to do justice 
and judgment." The fact that Abraham would 
exercise a rigid, though doubtless a kind au- 
thority in his family, made him peculiarly the 
object of the divine regard. On the other hand, 
it may be laid down as an almost universal 
truth, that those parents who neglect to main- 
tain strict discipline in their households, entail 
a train of miseries upon themselves and their 
children. 

Nothing can be more interesting than the 
expostulation of Abraham, with the Divine 
Being who had condescended to visit him. 
This is the first extended prayer recorded in 
the Bible. After the angels had departed, with 



VISIT OF THE ANGELS. 107 

a heart oppressed by the tidings to which he 
had been listening, and with humble confidence 
in the divine justice and mercy, he reverently 
" draws near" to the Lord. He anxiously in- 
quires if the doomed city must perish, provided 
there be fifty — forty-five — forty — thirty — twen- 
ty — ten righteous men, found within its walls. 
He pleads with great earnestness, " That be 
far from thee to do after this manner, to slay 
the righteous with the wicked. Shall not the 
Judge of all the earth do right ?" From fifty 
he descended to ten, the Lord granting him his 
request in relation to each several number.— 
There Abraham ceased his intercessions ; for 
if the city should be spared for ten's sake, he 
knew that Lot was safe. This devout negotia- 
tion being ended, the parties separate, and 
Abraham returns to his tent. 

How delightful and yet how awful is the 
view which this narrative presents, of the con- 
descension of the Almighty to human affairs ! 
He appears to Abraham in a human form, as a 
way-faring man, with two fellow travellers, 
He submits to be received and entertained as a 



108 



THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 



common guest. He assumes no dignity, he 
displays no splendour ; he communes with the 
patriarch as one of the same nature and of 
kindred sympathies. How like the same Being 
on another mission, as the Saviour of the world ! 
For doubtless it was he, who, almost two thou- 
sand years afterwards, sojourned among men 
in still deeper humiliation, and finally died for 
their redemption on the cross. 

But while his visit to Abraham was a visit of 
mercy, it indicated fearful wrath towards Ihe 
cities of the plain. He, that could condescend 
in such kindness to the Father of the Faithful, 
could, on the same visit, sweep into ruin thou- 
sands of ungodly men. Thus, while his face 
beams with a smile of love towards them that 
obey him ; it wears a frown of terrific ven- 
geance towards all the disobedient. 

The narrative also affords great encourage- 
ment to intercessory prayer. Nothing, it 
would seem, could have averted from the 
family of Lot, the doom which was impend- 
ing over the city where they dwelt, but the 
patriarch's intercessions. He pleaded with an 



VISIT OF THE ANGELS. 109 

earnestness and an importunity, which could 
not be denied ; and the object which lay nearest 
his heart, in his entreaties, was vouchsafed to 
him. This is a beautiful exemplification of the 
manner and success of that fervent, effectual 
prayer of the righteous man, which availeth 
much. 

And who will not be encouraged by such an 
example ? If Elijah was a man of " like pas- 
sions" as other men, subject to the common 
infirmities and sins of our nature ; so was Abra- 
ham. They both were frail, erring men. Yet 
the one interceded for the salvation of a family 
amidst a community doomed to utter destruc- 
tion ; and the other prayed that it might not 
rain for the space of three years and six months; 
and God listened to them both. One was 
moved by the common affections of humanity ; 
the other by indignation at the unbelief of 
Israel, while in each there was the governing 
principle of love pointing to the glory of God. 
The former stayed the avenging hand, till Lot 
was secure; the latter brought it down in a 
10 



110 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

fearful visitation of famine upon an ungodly 
people. 

And if they were " of like passions" as other 
men, and yet prevailed with God in their re- 
quests, why may not all men of prayer prevail 
with him also ? Yet who has the spirit of 
prayer? Who has the boldness, the fervour 
and the importunity of Abraham? Say not 
that he was peculiarly the favourite of God. 
He lived under a dispensation of far more 
limited privileges. The way to the mercy seat 
was far less visibly and invitingly open. And 
the voice of the great advocate at the court of 
heaven, was far less distinctly heard. The 
present is emphatically a dispensation of prayer. 
The High Priest has entered into the holy of 
holies, to encourage our approach with the 
promise of his unfailing advocacy of our cause. 
" Therefore" — it is the strong inference of the 
apostle, "therefore let us come with boldness 
to the throne of grace" Come, to obtain 
mercy in all your necessities as a man and as 
a sinner. Come, in every season of doubt, of 
danger, and distress. Come, if unforgiven, and 



VISIT OF THE ANGELS. Ill 

seek reconciliation with an offended but for- 
bearing God. Come, if you already know the 
preciousness of forgiving love, and plead for 
the perishing around you. Look, is there not 
a fiercer flame than that which the divine 
wrath kindled upon Sodom, in store for the 
rejecters of the gospel ? Is there not a doom 
denounced less tolerable even than the doom of 
that devoted city? Look again ; and see if 
within the circle of your own near connexions, 
there be none in danger of the coming wrath. 
There is one who openly rejects the offered 
mercy. There is another, who looks upon all 
the awful truths of religion with indifference. 
There is yet another who is walking in the 
vain show of error and delusion. And some 
are wandering far away from the fountain of 
salvation, in the broad paths of unblushing 
wickedness. O for the faith, the affection, the 
untiring importunity of Abraham ! — A faith 
that shall seize with a strong grasp upon that 
arm which is mighty to save ; an affection 
which shall unite the strength of human love 
to the diviner energies of the soul in its strug- 



112 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

gle for the victory ; and an importunity which 
no difficulties shall abate, and no delays dis- 
courage. Plead — it is for the precious life — 
the life of the undying soul ! 



CHAPTER VIII. 

THE DESTRUCTION OF THE CITIES OF THE PLAIN. 

" See how the lightnings, barbed, red with wrath, 
Sent from the quiver of Omnipotence, 
Cross and re«cross the fiery gloom, and burn 
Into the centre ; burn without, within, 
And help the native fires which God awoke, 
And kindled with the fury of his wrath."" 

Pollok. 

Lot, at the close of the day, was sitting at 
the gate of Sodom. He had forsaken the open 
country, and had become a resident in the 
crowded and voluptuous city. It has also been 
conjectured by some, that, allured by the hope 
of more rapid gain, he had abandoned his for- 
mer occupation, for one more lucrative per- 
haps, but less safe and happy. This, how- 
ever, is uncertain. For some purpose or other, 
it is plain that he had removed within the pre- 
cincts of the devoted Sodom. Let us picture to 
ourselves that magnificent city. See it, rising 
in the midst of a plain of exceeding fertility, 
10* 



114 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

surrounded, as ancient cities uniformly were, 
with lofty walls and battlements, and abound- 
ing in temples dedicated to the worship of false 
gods. These, crowned with towers and domes, 
ornamented with arches and colonnades, and re- 
lieved here and there with groves of luxuriant 
foliage, presented a view of most enchanting 
beauty. We may fancy the pleasure-seeking 
throngs, men and women, youths and maidens, 
moving with active step and merry voices along 
the streets, visiting their favourite places of 
amusement, or passing out from the gates to enjoy 
the freer air of the surrounding fields. A thirst 
for pleasure is the universal passion. Thou- 
sands wend their way to the spacious amphi- 
theatres. Equal numbers are seen gathering 
in the courts of the magnificent temples, and 
mingling in the wanton dance. While multi- 
tudes of others are reclining at the doors and 
on the roofs of their dwellings, recovering from 
a former night's debauch. Here are old men 
grouped together, and, to beguile the infirmi- 
ties of age and the tedium of time, telling over, 
with manifest exultation, the shameful feats of 



DESTRUCTION OF CITIES OF THE PLAIN. 115 

their younger days. And there are companies 
of children, giving evidence, in their obscene 
sports, of their premature proficiency in the 
arts of vice. Every where is exhibited melan- 
choly proof, that the city is given up, in the 
justice of heaven, to work all uncleanness with 
greediness, and fill the measure of its iniquity, 
till the vials of divine wrath shall be poured out 
without measure. 

Yet on no city did the God of Nature ever 
bestow higher physical advantages. On that 
rich plain were found, in luxuriant growth, the 
fruits of almost every clime. Nothing could 
exceed the beauty of the gardens and the 
groves, and the richness of the productions, 
which seemed to spring spontaneously from the 
soil. Trees of every variety of form, from the 
lofty palm to the graceful willow ; vines bend- 
ing under the burden of the most delicious 
clusters ; flowers enamelling the fields with a 
thousand various hues, and perfuming the air 
with the sweetest fragrance, — delighted the 
senses and ought to have disposed the heart to 
gratitude. Yet no gratitude was awakened in 



116 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

the bosoms of the guilty inhabitants. They 
rioted in pleasure, and forgot that they were the 
creatures of God. 

Around this magnificent plain, in which 
were situated several splendid and populous 
cities besides that of Sodom, were ranges of 
high mountains, which gave an indescribable 
wildness and grandeur to the distant view. 
The scene altogether must have been one of 
surpassing beauty, combining all the attributes 
of a perfect landscape. The plain, blooming 
with the utmost luxuriance of nature, aided 
with numberless embellishments of art, and 
encircled with its high mountain wall, might 
be compared to some brilliant gem glittering in 
its native bed of rock. 

Lot, as has been remarked, was sitting at 
the gate of the city, enjoying the cool and re- 
freshing evening air, and perhaps indulging in 
those devout meditations, which the scenery 
before him was so well suited to inspire. The 
sultriness of the day was passed ; yet the glow- 
ing sky had scarcely begun to fade beyond the 
blue western heights, crowned here and there 



DESTRUCTION OF CITIES OF THE PLAIN. 117 

with broken wreaths of clouds, tinged with 
crimson and gold in all the gorgeousness of a 
Syrian sunset. Lot had endeavoured to main- 
tain his heart and manners unpolluted by the 
corruption of the city. Though too much under 
the influence of mammon, he had not forgotten 
the God of Abraham. It is not impossible that 
the disgust he felt at the wickedness around 
him, served rather to confirm his faith and 
promote his piety. Deeply had he been vexed 
and grieved, as an inspired apostle has told us, 
with the obscene conversation of the inhabitants. 
We may imagine how contemptuously they 
would treat him, because he would not accom- 
pany them to the same excess of riot. We 
may almost see them, passing by, as he sat 
meditating under the broad arch of the gate, 
taunting him for his gravity, and turning into 
ridicule his unyielding virtue, and especially his 
faithful admonitions. 

Presently, two angelic beings were seen 
approaching the gate where Lot was seated. 
He immediately rose up to meet them, and 
bowed his face reverently to the ground. They 



118 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

appeared probably in ordinary human form, 
and as travellers from a distance. After some 
solicitation, they consented to accept Lot's prof- 
fered hospitality, and spend the night under 
his friendly roof. Having partaken of a feast 
kindly prepared for their entertainment, they 
were about retiring to rest, when the house 
was surrounded with a clamorous mob, com- 
posed of people, young and old, from every 
quarter of the city. They had seen the strangers 
enter, and were resolved not to suffer them to 
depart, till they had perpetrated upon them the 
basest and most abominable of crimes. Lot, 
determining rather to submit to any indignity 
himself, than to expose his guests to such un- 
natural violence, went out into the street, and 
besought them to desist, using with them in- 
ducements of the most humiliating nature, yet 
rendered necessary, as he falsely supposed, 
by the peculiarity of the case. They were 
proceeding to treat him even worse than they 
had intended to treat the strangers, accusing 
him of setting himself up as a judge among 
them, a mere sojourner as he was ; — when the 



DESTRUCTION OF CITIES OF THE PLAIN. 119 

angels put forth their hand from the door and 
rescued him from their grasp, at the same time 
so affecting the sight of the rioters, that they 
could prosecute their diabolical design no 
farther. 

These angels appear to have been the same 
that had visited Abraham, in company with a 
third, who had apprised him of the terrible 
destruction which was speedily to fall upon the 
cities of the plain. They had parted with their 
chief, who seems to have been no other than 
God himself in the form of man, and had come 
straightway to Sodom, for the rescue of Lot 
and his family in accordance with Abraham's 
entreaties. While, therefore, the people, in 
their blindness, were wearying themselves in 
vain to find the entrance to the dwelling, these 
celestial visitants communicated to their host 
the errand on which they had come. " We 
will destroy this place," said they ; " because 
the cry of them (the cry of their wickedness,) 
is waxen great before the face of the Lord ; 
and the Lord hath sent us to destroy it." They 
accordingly gave direction that Lot should im- 



120 THE PATRIARCH OP HEBRON. 

mediately prepare to flee, taking with him all 
his family and connexions. He had two daugh- 
ters, who were betrothed* to two young men of 
Sodom. To these young men he hastened, and 
besought them to escape from the accursed city. 
But he seemed to them as one that mocked. 
They saw no indications of danger, and ac- 
counted the old man doubtless to be supersti- 
tious or mad. 

At length, after a night of unutterable anx- 
iety in the family, the morning dawned. Soon 
Lot was standing, with his wife and two 
daughters, at the door of their dwelling, look- 
ing for the last time upon the devoted city. 
There it stood, as firm and beautiful as ever. 
The gray light was kindling on the stately 
edifices, revealing here an arch and there a 
colonnade, while the receding parts lay hid in 
the deepest shadow. At a little distance, were the 
fields of Lot, with his flocks and herds and all 

* The word rendered married in the common 
version, is supposed to mean nothing more here 
than betrothed. 



DESTRUCTION OF CITIES OF THE PLAIN. 121 

his accumulated wealth. Of how little value 
to him now were the riches, in anticipation of 
which he had chosen that fertile plain ! As he 
gazed around him, his heart clung more closely 
i to the spot. Why should he flee ? True, the 
messengers had foretold to him that the city 
would be destroyed. But then there appeared 
no immediate cause of alarm. A balmier air 
had never breathed, nor a milder morning ever 
dawned. The sky was clear, the ground 
| sounded firm beneath his feet, and every thing 
/ around him wore the aspect of security and 
peace. The thousands of the city were silent 
i in sleep; and scarcely a voice was heard, save 
) now and then a shout of some company of 
I revellers, who had worn away the whole night 
in their carousals. Was it possible that utter 
ruin was so near ? And then the abandonment 
of all his possessions ! How could he give 
them up and go forth a poor, homeless, unpro- 
tected wanderer on the face of the earth ! O 
that he had never parted with the pious Abra- 
ham ! Besides, his daughters, how could they 
| consent to leave the city, while those whom 
11 



122 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

they held dearer than their own lives, must be 
left behind to perish ! 

Their delay had been already too long pro- 
tracted. The hour when the vengeance of 
heaven was to burst forth upon the guilty 
cities had arrived. The angels, therefore, laid 
hold upon the little company, four in number ; 
and with kind compulsion, brought them forth 
without the city walls. They were then directed 
to escape for their lives, not even looking be- 
hind them, nor pausing for a moment on their 
way, till they had reached a place of safety 
upon the mountains. At Lot's earnest request, 
however, who, for some reason, was apprehen- 
sive of danger upon the mountains, or in his 
attempt to reach them, they were permitted to 
flee to a small city at the southern extremity of 
the plain, then called Bela, but afterward called 
Zoar ; the signification of which is Little. This 
name was taken from Lot's inquiry — " Is it 
not a little one ?" As the company set forth 
on their flight, the directing angel cried after 
Lot — " Haste thee, escape thither ; for I cannot 
do any thing till thou be come thither." Such 



DESTRUCTION OF CITIES OF THE PLAIN. 123 

is the preserving care which God, in his provi- 
dence, exercises over his friends. His wrath 
must be stayed till the only righteous family 
on the plain, had found a place of safety. Per- 
haps during all this time, Abraham was plead- 
ing with the Divine Being who remained with 
him, for their salvation. At all events he had 
prayed with great earnestness, continuing his 
entreaties, till he had obtained assurance that 
Lot should be spared. " He that dwelleth in 
the secret place of the Most High, shall abide 
under the shadow of the Almighty." 

With rapid steps they hastened to Zoar. 
Just as they entered it, the sun rose for the last 
time on the devoted cities. There was no 
symptom of approaching danger ; and, of the 
multitudes who were yet sleeping on their pil- 
lows or just opening their eyes on the light of 
day, not one dreamed of the dreadful catas- 
trophe before them. But in an instant they 
were aroused to the reality of their fate. 
| The ground quaked beneath them ; terrific 
thunders rent the air ; torrents of liquid fire 
rushed upon them from above ; if they sought 



124 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

refuge in their dwellings, they were soon over- 
whelmed by the massy walls tumbling in pro- 
miscuous ruin around them ; and if they fled 
from death in this form, they were arrested in 
the street by the hot and suffocating elements. 
For a few moments, there was a cry, and a 
wailing, and a running to and fro ; and then all 
was still, except the earthquake and the sul- 
phurous storm. Not a living creature remained 
in all the cities of the plain, save in that to 
which Lot had fled. Death had done its des- 
tined work ; and God had given another tre- 
mendous testimony of the fearfulness of his 
wrath against the wicked. Over all the region 
where the cities stood was soon spread a lake 
of stagnant water ; as if God would conceal 
for ever from human view a spot so signalized 
for wickedness. 

Abraham, early in the morning, after the 
visit of the angels, ascended the summit of a 
hill, where he had parted with the mysterious 
Being to whom he had offered his intercessions 
in Lot's behalf; and thence looking abroad 
over the plain of the Jordan, he beheld the 



DESTRUCTION OF CITIES OF THE PLAIN. 125 

" smoke of the country going up as the smoke 
of a furnace. 5 ' The ground itself, full of pitch 
and sulphur, was on fire, the water not having 
as yet accumulated upon it, and presented the 
appearance of a vast, half smothered conflagra- 
tion. He needed no other evidence, that the 
threatening of the Lord had been executed. 
Lot, however, was given to his prayers. With 
his daughters, he reached Zoar in safety ; but 
his wife, in opposition to an express command, 
and perhaps prompted by feelings of distrust or 
of repining, looked back, lingering behind, and 
was changed, in the language of the inspired 
historian, into " a pillar of salt." There is no 
safety, but in strict obedience to the divine 
commands. 

Lot did not remain long in Zoar. Probably 
he found there a people no less impious than 

i the inhabitants of Sodom, and feared lest they 
too would soon be overtaken by the judgments 

I of God. He retired therefore to the mountains, 
where, overcome by wine, he committed incest 

j with his daughters, and became the father of 

{ two sons, from whom descended the tribes of 
11* 



126 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

Moab and Ammon. Thus in ancient times, 
as well as the present, drunkenness was the 
mother of shameful and abominable wicked- 
ness. 

Nothing more is known of the history of 
Lot. The probability is that he lingered out a 
few miserable years, reflecting on his folly in 
choosing his portion among the wicked inhabit- 
ants of the plain, from so paltry a motive as the 
love of wealth ; and lamenting still more the 
crime, into which he had been betrayed by 
means of intemperance. A happy old age 
could hardly have crowned a life of such 
irregular and inconsistent piety. They who 
would have gray hairs an ornament, and the 
last days of life days of serenity and peace, 
must act from higher motives than those of 
selfishness ; and by an undeviating course of 
rectitude and piety, " lay up in store for 
themselves a good foundation against the time 
to come." 

How fearful is the exhibition here presented 
of the wrath of God ! Verily to his enemies 
he is " a consuming fire ;" and it is no light 



DESTRUCTION OF CITIES OF THE PLAIN. 127 

matter to provoke his anger. " He is the same 
yesterday, to-day, and for ever." He hated 
sin no more in the guilty inhabitants of Sodom, 
than he hates it in such as now transgress his 
commands : nay, " it shall be more tolerable 
for Sodom and Gomorrah in the day of judg- 
ment," than for those who, with the Bible open 
in their hands and the invitations of mercy 
sounding in their ears, still harden their hearts 
in impenitency. However kind Providence may 
now appear, they are nevertheless " treasuring 
up unto themselves wrath against the day of 
wrath and revelation of the righteous judgment 
of God." Present prosperity to them is only 
a prelude to a more dreadful overthrow. Their 
sky is bright to-day, only to make the coming 
tempest more terrific. While all around looks 
safe and fair, there is a secret work going on 
undermining their foundations ; and at length 
they must fall in total and irrecoverable ruin. 
As in the case of Lot, it is with difficulty that 
the good escape ; " and if the righteous scarcely 
be saved, where shall the ungodly and the sin- 
ner appear !" " Turn ye to the strong hold, 



128 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

ye prisoners of hope." " Escape for thy life ; 
look not behind thee, neither stay thou in all 
the plain ; escape to the mountain, lest thou 
be consumed." 



CHAPTER IX. 

ANOTHER EXAMPLE OF HUMAN INFIRMITY. 

Man— boasted lord of all below, 

How weak, how prone to stray ; 
How frail of purpose, and how slow 

To learn the better way ! 

Experience, monitress severe, 

Oft spreads her page in vain ; 
The tempter's syren voice we hear, 

And straight transgress again ! Anon, 

Abraham had now been pasturing his flocks 
in the region of Hebron nearly twenty years. 
For some unknown reason, he at length re- 
moves toward what is called " the south coun- 
try." It is not unlikely that he expected richer 
pasturage for his flocks and herds in this region, 
than could be obtained upon plains and hills 
which had so long been occupied. It is neces- 
sary now, and it undoubtedly was also in 
ancient times, for shepherds in those countries 
to remove somewhat frequently, seeking fresh 
grazing fields for their increasing numbers of 
sheep and cattle. 



130 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

The place which he selected for his new 
sojourn, is called Gerar. Whether it is the 
same that is marked by that name on our com- 
mon maps, is uncertain. The situation of this 
is not south, but nearly west from Hebron. It 
seems to have been a settlement just within the 
border of the land of the Philistines. Isaac 
once took refuge there in a time of famine. 
Abimelech, who then reigned as king over the 
country, is denominated (Gen. xxvi. 1,) king 
of the Philistines. 

From all that is related of this prince, it 
appears that he was friendly to Abraham, and 
not altogether a stranger to the true God. By 
some means or other, he had retained some 
knowledge and reverence of his character, 
amid the almost universal ignorance and idola- 
try which prevailed around him. This is the 
more remarkable, as the Philistines are sup- 
posed to have originated in Egypt, where idola- 
try and superstition were carried to greater 
lengths of absurdity, than among most other 
ancient nations. Yet there is no tribe, even in 
the darkest corners of the heathen world, so 



EXAMPLE OF HUMAN INFIRMITY. 131 

completely shut out from the means of divine 
knowledge, as necessarily to pass on to the 
judgment, in utter and hopeless ignorance of 
religious duty and the great object of religious 
worship. The king of Gerar may have been 
one of the few, who have risen above all disad- 
vantages ; and in the midst of general darkness 
have struck out light from their own minds, or 
gathered up the rays which are scattered over 
the face of nature, to guide them to the know- 
ledge of the God of heaven. 

When Abraham had arrived in the land of 
Gerar, he fell into the same sin, of which he 
had been guilty when, many years before, he 
was compelled by famine to retire into Egypt. 
Sarah, though above ninety years of age, was 
still beautiful ; so beautiful that her husband 
feared for her safety, and his own on her ac- 
count, when the king of the country should 
become acquainted with her charms. They 
therefore agree to practise the very deception 
on Abimelech which they had practised on 
Pharaoh. How strange that he should not 
have learned wisdom from- former experience ! 



132 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

And yet we have in his example a mirror 
which reflects the history of thousands — good 
men, men of exalted virtue, yet weak in some 
point of character, and at that point repeatedly 
betrayed into sin. Such instances of human 
frailty, how humiliating, how instructive — 
" Let him that thinketh he standeth, take 
heed lest he fall !'' Verily, human strength 
is weakness. " In thee, O God, in thee alone 
are all our springs." 

" She is my sister," said Abraham, as one 
and another of the Philistines curiously inquir- 
ed concerning the relationship between him and 
the woman who shared his tent. " He is my 
brother," said Sarah to those who repeated the 
inquiry. Thus it seemed to be made certain 
that no other relationship subsisted between 
them. The consequence was, she was remov- 
ed to the royal court, to partake in the honour 
or disgrace belonging to such a situation. God, 
however, as before, mercifully preserved her 
from all evil. Before the arrangements for her 
reception as a new royal bride were completed, 
the king was informed in a miraculous dream, 



EXAMPLE OF HUMAN INFIRMITY. 133 

that Sarah was the wife of the stranger whom 
she had accompanied to Gerar ; and that to 
proceed with his plans would be at the hazard 
of his life. He awoke with that dreadful sound 
ringing in his ears — " Thou art but a dead 
man." Abimelech lost no time in restoring 
Sarah to her husband, whom he called to ac- 
count for the deception which he had practised 
upon him, and by which he had well nigh in- 
volved him and his people in heavy calamities. 
Abraham gave substantially the same explana- 
tion in this as in the former instance — adding, 
however, that the agreement between him and 
Sarah, to deceive, whenever such an occasion 
should seem to require it, was one into which 
they had entered, when they first left their na- 
tive land, and commenced their wandering, 
pastoral life. They doubtless thought it neces- 
sary, and therefore excusable ; but if all things 
which we might fancy necessary were excusa- 
ble, how few vices would remain to be con- 
demned ! 

The sensibility of Abimelech is peculiarly 
worthy of notice. No sooner does he discover 
12 



134 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

the truth in relation to Sarah, than he hastens 
to do all that duty and honour required. He 
speaks of the sin to the borders of which he 
had been inadvertently led, with manifest ab- 
horrence. " What hast thou done unto me, 
and what have I offended thee, that thou hast 
brought upon me and on my kingdom a great 
sin? Thou hast done deeds unto me that 
ought not to be done." This is not the lan- 
guage of an ignorant, sensual, low-minded hea- 
then. The same may likewise be said of the 
manner in which he treats the offending hus- 
band. Instead of inflicting on him a heavy 
punishment, as might have been expected, he 
loads him with gifts — sheep, oxen, servants, 
and a thousand pieces of silver, and bids him 
choose for himself whatever portion of the 
country he preferred for his sojourn. Who 
can fail to recognise here the overruling hand 
of God, preserving his servant from all harm, 
and making the most untoward circumstances 
work together for his good. The knowledge 
of the very fact, which Abraham had appre- 
hended, if known, would prove the occasion 



EXAMPLE OF HUMAN INFIRMITY. 135 

of his death, becomes the occasion of a great 
increase of his possessions. So greatly does 
human wisdom mistake, when it adopts expe- 
dients contrary to truth and virtue. 



CHAPTER X. 

THE LONG DEFERRED PROPHECY FULFILLED. 

" And Abraham called the name of his son that was born unto 
him, whom Sarah bare to him, Isaac."— Gen. xxi. 3. 

Gerar was destined to be the birth-place of 
Isaac. For sixty years Abraham had been 
held in suspense, encouraged by the oft-re- 
peated and solemnly ratified promise of God, 
that he should be the father of many nations ; 
and yet subjected to all the heart-sickness of 
hope deferred. It is impossible to determine, 
whether this trial of his faith was intended sim- 
ply to give strength to his character, teaching 
him the important lesson of patience and sub- 
mission ; or whether it was designed as a pun- 
ishment of the sins, into which, as we have 
seen, he was betrayed. Henry suggests, that 



PROPHECY FULFILLED. 137 

God may have denied to Abraham and Sarah 
the blessing which they doubtless desired above 
all others, because they had entered into a 
compact to deny one another. We hear no 
more of any such denial after the instance just 
related. Perhaps it is not unreasonable to sup- 
pose, that they at this time saw their error and 
repented of it. Certain it is, that soon after 
this, their desires were fulfilled ; and Sarah's 
heart was gladdened with a joy, higher and 
purer perhaps than mother ever felt, except 
only the mother of the infant Saviour. 

Abraham was now a hundred years old, and 
probably he supposed that his trials were at 
length at an end. The dark cloud which had 
so long rested on his prospects, had vanished, 
and he could see in the distant future, in clearer 
vision than he had ever before attained, the 
bright fulfilment of the plan which connected 
his paternity with the richest blessings of the 
world. Though believers are required to walk 
by faith and not by sight, yet such is human 
weakness, that sight, an occasional glimpse at 
J least, is necessary to sustain the drooping 
12* 



136 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

heart. Abraham was now a father ; and he 
could with less difficulty conceive, that a migh- 
ty nation was to arise from the line of Isaac ; 
possess the whole extent of country, which he 
had traversed in his wanderings ; receive from 
age to age communications from heaven which 
would enlighten the world ; and give birth, at 
a remote period, to a great Deliverer, the Re- 
deemer of mankind. 

It is no wonder, therefore, that Abraham's 
joy was great, on an occasion which could not 
have been otherwise than joyful to any parent, 
under more ordinary circumstances. There 
was the joy of gratitude, heightened perhaps 
by wonder ; there was also the joy of hope, 
for the promise was as yet only fulfilled in the 
bud. A vast range yet remained for future de- 
velopment. All this was added to the peculiar 
joy which swells the parent's heart, when he 
clasps for the first time a fresh germ of immor- 
tality to his bosom. 

The child was named Isaac, agreeably to a 
divine direction. The word signifies laughter, 
and was designed to remind the parents of the 



PROPHECY FULFILLED. 139 

laughing of the one, from emotions of glad- 
J ness ; and of the other, from a feeling of dis- 
l trust, when the birth of their son was predicted. 
It is worthy of special remark, how scrupu- 
lously they obey the intimations of the divine 
will. God has so directed, was all the au- 
thority they needed to determine their course, 
in matters whether apparently trivial or im- 
portant. In respect both to the name and the 
ceremony of circumcision, the divine appoint- 
ment was faithfully followed. 

When the most critical period of the child's 
life had passed, and it required no longer to be 
nourished on the mother's breast, a festival 
was observed expressive of thankfulness and 
joy, that the dangers attendant on the first en- 
trance on the stream of life were over. This 
festival was usually kept by the Jews, when 
the child had reached the age of thirty or 
thirty-six months. It was a beautiful custom, 
deriving its origin perhaps from Abraham's 
example, but having its foundation in the na- 
ture of man. Festivals as well as fasts, sea- 
sons of rejoicing as well as of sorrow, are pro- 



140 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

per and comely in their place ; and when they 
are observed in the fear of God, they are doubt- 
less pleasing in his sight. 

Feasting, however, is a far different thing, 
in these degenerate times, from the simple fes- 
tivals of the patriarchs. Now, every thing of 
this nature has degenerated into luxury. When 
men feast, though on strictly religious occa- 
sions, the entertainment is sumptuous, but the 
heart is dead. There is pampering of appetite, 
but no elevation of soul ; there is rejoicing, 
but no gratitude. Simplicity was the crowning 
excellence of Abraham's festivities. " A calf 
tender and good," dressed in the plainest 
manner, and cakes baked on the hearth, with 
butter and milk, sufficed for the entertainment 
of angels. How much more would they suf- 
fice for an ordinary feast ? 

Abraham's delight at this festive season, ap- 
pears not to have been unalloyed. Ishmael, 
the son of Hagar, displeased as many an ill- 
tempered boy would have been, to see the pa- 
rade in the family on Isaac's account, and 
fearing perhaps that he should be supplanted 



PROPHECY FULFILLED. 141 

in his father's affections, began to mock, as 
his insolent behaviour is significantly termed. 
This led to his dismission from the family, in a 
manner which must have been excessively 
painful to the father's feelings, but which was 
apparently necessary for the peace of the do- 
mestic circle. Such conduct in the young is 
both highly criminal in itself, and unhappy in 
its consequences. It must always tend to evil, 
and not unfrequently, as in the case of Ish- 
mael, to evil which will embitter a long life. 
But the history of the father of the Arabians, 
we must reserve for a separate chapter. 



CHAPTER XL 

THE HISTORY OF ISHMAEL, 

Youth, what is it ? wise one, say 

Morning of life's little day ? 

Let that morning know no blight ; 

Else the day will be as night :— 

Spring-time of the growing year ? 

Set the plants of virtue here. 

'Tis the seed-plot, youth beware, 

Of whate'er in life we are. Anon,. 

Ishmael, as we have already seen 5 was the 
son of Hagar, a maid-servant of the family. 
He seems to have inherited his mother's dispo- 
sition, which was by no means one of the most 
amiable. In anticipation of the honour of his 
birth, she assumed an air of superiority and 
arrogance, which her mistress could not en- 
dure. The consequence was, the maid-ser- 
vant, harshly treated by Sarah, fled into the 
wilderness. There the angel of the Lord look- 
ed upon her distress, promised that her son 
should be the father of a numerous people, and 



HISTORY OP ISHMAEL. 143 

directed her to return and submit herself to her 
mistress. She obeyed, and soon after became 
the mother of Ishmael. 

We hear no more of the youth for more than 
fourteen years. How these years were spent 
it is in vain to inquire ; but we may well sup- 
pose that although to us they are a blank in 
his history, they were not a blank to him in 
the formation of his character. Under the 
forming hand of such a mother, he must have 
received impressions which probably contri- 
buted not only to determine what he was him- 
self to be, but to influence and shape the des- 
tinies of his descendants. So vast is the re- 
sponsibility of the parent. 

The misconduct of Ishmael, to which allu- 
sion was made in the preceding chapter, did 
not escape the notice of Sarah. She had good 
reason to suppose that the lad was jealous of 
his younger brother, and to apprehend that the 
envy which had assumed so bold a form at so 
early a period, would ripen at length into more 
serious mischief. Such a temper as Ishmael 
manifested, if not seasonably overcome, gene- 



144 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

rally grows with the growth and strengthens 
with the strength, till malignity becomes the 
settled habit of the mind. Thus many a youth 
has been trained, or rather has trained himself, 
for a life of revengeful passion and flagrant 
crime. He who in his early years can mock 
at a feast, because a younger brother receives 
more attention than is paid to himself, will be 
very likely, in later life, to be found as was 
Ishmael, with " his hand against every man, 
and every man's hand against him." Nothing 
can be more important, therefore, in the forma- 
tion of character, than to restrain passions at 
their first outbreaking, and subject them to a 
rigid and uncompromising control. 

It was perfectly natural for Sarah, under the 
circumstances of the case, to seek the expul- 
sion of the offending youth, together with his 
mother, by whom she might suspect he was 
encouraged in his insolence, from the family 
and the neighbourhood. She was unwilling to 
train her son amid the influences and the dan- 
gers which seemed to be inseparable from his 
residence with them. Or it might have been 



HISTORY OF ISHMAEL. 145 

simply from a sudden feeling of resentment, 
that she desired and demanded his removal. 
Such a demand might be praised in a prudent 
mother, and expected in a proud and passion- 
ate one. 

Accordingly, we are not surprised to hear 
Sarah call her husband and say — " Cast out 
this bond-woman and her son ; for the son of 
this bond-woman shall not be heir with my son, 
even with Isaac." The reason here assigned 
by her for requiring thern to be removed, may 
appear to be not the most honourable ; and yet 
when we consider what God had promised to 
the descendants of Abraham in the line of 
Sarah, and take into view at the same time the 
insolent behaviour of Ishmael, there is found 
in what she did, nothing particularly worthy of 
censure. 

It was, however, very grievous to the father. 
To send away his son, his eldest and for many 
years his only son ; to treat him as an outcast 
who was no longer to share his favour, and 
was never to have part in his possessions — was 
one of the most painful trials of his life. 
13 



146 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

The lad was now nearly grown ; he had en- 
grossed largely the father's affection ; had be- 
guiled, by his sprightliness, many a lonely 
hour in his tent ; and even since the birth of 
Isaac, he maintained a strong hold upon his 
heart. In his features and form, Abraham had 
first learned to trace his own image, and that 
image was becoming more and more manifest 
with every advancing year. He looks upon 
the lad all unconscious of his fate* He watches 
the bright, cheerful play of his countenance ; 
and thoughts of his own youthful days in the 
dwelling of Terah rush upon his mind, and 
melt him into tears. And must he turn him 
forth as a stranger and an alien, to wander 
with his mother in the wilderness, to perish 
perhaps with famine, or fall a prey to some 
ravenous beast ? He shrinks from it with all 
the tender reluctance of paternal fondness. 
What a delightful view does this incident afford 
of Abraham's character! With all the dio-- 

o 

nity of the patriarch we see united the utmost 
tenderness of affection. 

But it was the divine will that Ishmael should 



HISTORY OF ISHMAEL. 



147 



be removed. The father was therefore direct- 
ed by a voice from heaven to send him and his 
mother away ; and to relieve his sorrow he 
was assured that, although Isaac was to be his 
sole heir, the inheritor of the peculiar blessings 
long since promised, yet Ishmael also should 
be so far prospered as to be the father of a 
great nation. 

Simple was the ceremony of their dismis- 
j sion. Abraham furnishes them with a supply of 
1 bread and of water,* and commending them in 

I * The terms, "bread" and "water," may in- 
I elude whatever was necessary for the support of 
I the wanderers during* a considerable journey. 
I Water was then the common and almost the only 
beverage; and bread included all those substances 
used as food. 

We should mistake, were we to suppose that 
! Abraham acted an unnatural part, on this occasion, 
I even if we were to leave out of view the fact that 
i he acted under divine direction. It was no uncom- 
mon thing- for fathers to send their sons away to a 
distant region, to seek their own independent for- 
I tunes. Abraham did no more, except that he sent 
Ishmael away at an immature age. He doubtless 



148 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

silence, as we may imagine, to the protection 
of a kind Providence, points out their lonely 
way, and turns his back on them for ever. 
It must have been to him a moment of exqui- 
site anguish ; but it was of the Lord ; and he 
must neither shrink from his duty nor repine 
under his trials. Moreover, it was no small 
comfort to him, that the divine blessing was 
promised to the poor wanderer. A pious con- 
fidence in God, therefore, soon dried his tears ; 
and as he returned to his tent and pressed Isaac 
to his bosom, the void in his heart did not long 
remain unfilled. 

Hagar went forth with her son and wander- 
ed in the wilderness of Beersheba- Beersheba 
was a mountainous region at the southern ex- 
directed Hagar and her son to some place, where 
they might easily obtain a livelihood, and where 
Ishmael would be likely to become great and pros- 
perous. On their journey to that place, they lost 
their way and came near perishing. But God, who 
had promised to bless him, interposed; and the 
issue was precisely what the patriarch had proba- 
bly anticipated. 



HISTORY OF ISHMAEL. 149 

tremity of the Holy Land, thirty or forty miles 
from Gerar, and probably at that time thinly 
inhabited. Here the wretched exiles having 
lost their way remained, removing from place 
to place without aim or object, except to relieve 
the restlessness of a desponding mind. How 
should they obtain sustenance in the wilder- 
ness? What could be before them but starva- 
tion and death? Their stock-of bread was al- 
ready consumed, and the leathern sack of 
water which Abraham had placed on Hagar's 
shoulder, would soon be exhausted. Hunger 
was beginning to do its work, and thirst, it 
seemed, must necessarily hasten the issue. 
For a few days, however, they contrived to 
live on such poor aliment as the roots and wild 
fruits of the desert afforded ; but when they 
had drained the last drop from their water- 
sack, courage utterly failed them, and they 
sunk down in despair. The mother, with an 
unnatural effort, summoning all her remaining 
strength, took up her son, now too weak to 
support himself, and cast him under a thick 
mass of shrubbery, that he might be sheltered, 
13* 



150 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

while he lived, from the burning rays of the 
sun, and be less exposed, when dead, to the 
devouring beasts that roamed the wilderness* 
What a trial to a mother's heart ! She stood 
for a moment, watching his agony and listen- 
ing to his groans ; for famine and thirst were 
gnawing fiercely, and making rapid inroads 
upon life. She could endure it no longer. It 
was her only son. She therefore retired and 
" sat her down over against him a good way 
off, — for she said, let me not see the death of 
the child." " And she lifted up her voice and 
wept." But often, when human wisdom fails, 
divine compassion interposes. To Hagar, death 
appeared inevitable, both for herself and for 
Ishmael. Their fate was apparently sealed. 
Doubtless they reflected with shame and sorrow 
on the circumstances which had led to their 
dismission from the family of Abraham. How 
dear is the cost, ofttimes, of a single inconsi- 
derate act ! Had not Hagar been insolent, had 
not Ishmael " mocked," they might have been 
enjoying plenty and peace in the pious patri- 
arch's tent. The mother wept in the bitterness 



HISTORY OF ISHMAEL. 151 

of her soui ; — perhaps the tears were in part 
the tears of penitence. The lad cried aloud in 
his anguish ; — possibly his distress was in part 
for his own misconduct — his cries, for the 
mercy of Him who alone could help in such 
an extremity. 

The voice of divine compassion was heard. 
And the angel of God called to Hagar, while 
she sat weeping in expectation of death. A 
loud call startled her from her reverie of 
grief. She awoke as from a dream, and listen- 
ed. " What aileth thee, Hagar ?" inquired the 
invisible messenger. " Fear not ; for God 
hath heard the voice of the lad. Arise, lift up 
the lad, and hold him in thine hand ; and I will 
make him a great nation." 

She had, in her distress, forgotten the divine 
promise which was made to her concerning her 
son, before his birth. Grief and fear had com- 
pletely effaced the impression of it from her 
mind. But now[that it is repeated, the remem- 
brance of it is revived ; and she begins to re- 
cover courage. Opening her eyes, swollen 
with long weeping, she discovers a well of 



152 



THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 



water. Here she fills her sack, and hastening 
to Ishmael, raises his head, and assists him to 
drink the reviving draught. It is like life from 
the dead. This simple beverage of nature 
cools the fever which was raging in his 
veins. 

Ishmael, henceforward, was the object of a 
kind Providence, and his subsequent course 
was comparatively prosperous. He soon found 
means to support himself and his mother in 
the wilderness. As he grew up, he became an 
expert archer, and could bring down the deer 
as he bounded among the mountains, with 
every shot of his bow. Emigrating at length 
to Paran, a desert country some distance south- 
east of Beersheba, his mother, who seemed still 
to exercise a wholesome guardianship over him, 
" took him a wife out of the land of Egypt." 
Paran was, from that time, the place of his 
abode ; and there he became the father of 
twelve sons, the heads of the twelve tribes of 
the Arabians. Thus in him the divine pro- 
mise was fulfilled ; his descendants were nume- 
rous and powerful ; and they have answered 



HISTORY OF ISHMAEL. 153 

the description of their progenitor, that " his 
hands should be against every man, and every 
man's hand against him." They inherit to 
this day the peculiar characteristics of Ishmael, 
and show, in a wonderful manner how a single 
individual may sometimes impress his charac- 
ter upon countless multitudes through succes- 
sive generations. 



CHAPTER XII. 

NEW TESTIMONY TO ABRAHAM'S GREATNESS. 

" I saw a form of excellence, a form 

Of beauty without spot, that none could see 

And not admire : It was the form of Virtue ; — 

Naught else hath God given countenance so fair. 

No being once created rational, 

Can banish Virtue from his sight, or once 

Forget that she is fair." 

Pollok. 

The prosperity of Abraham was so re- 
markable as to attract the special notice of 
Abimelech, the king of the country. He did 
not, however, regard the stranger with envy 
or jealousy, but with admiration, and a desire 
to secure his friendship. Accordingly, in com- 
pany with Phichol, the chief captain of his 
army, he came from the city where he dwelt 
to make the patriarch a visit. The language 
in which the king accosts him, shows the high 
estimation in which he was held. " God is 
with thee in all that thou doest." What higher 



TESTIMONY TO ABRAHAM^ GREATNESS. 155 

praise could have been bestowed ! There was 
evidently a peculiar providence which had 
Abraham's affairs in charge, and crowned with 
prosperity every work of his hands. An in- 
visible guardian attended him. From the evils 
which his neighbours suffered he was so far 
exempt, and in the blessings which they shared 
he shared so much more abundantly, that 
Abimelech was constrained to acknowledge 
his superiority. " God is with thee." Happy 
are all they of whom such testimony can be 
given. 

They who faithfully serve the God of Abra- 
ham, may expect to be blessed as he was, if 
not with wealth and power and outward pros- 
perity, at least with durable riches and righte- 
ousness. Religion is not incompatible with 
success in worldly business ; but is often 
directly conducive to it. He who delights in 
the law of the Lord, " shall be like a tree 
planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth 
forth his fruit in his season : his leaf also shall 
not wither ; and whatsoever he doeth shall 
prosper." This is true just so far as the 



156 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

spiritual prosperity of the friends of God will 
permit; but where they must suffer either in 
their temporal affairs or in their spiritual con- 
dition, it is certainly a kindness in the govern- 
ment of God to inflict temporal chastening, in 
order to secure so much more valuable a good. 
On the whole, they may be said to be pros- 
pered even then. 

It was the object of Abimelech in visiting 
Abraham at this time, to make a treaty or 
covenant with him, and secure the patriarch's 
friendship and kindness toward himself and his 
descendants. Abraham was sufficiently pow- 
erful to do him no small injury in time of war, 
if he had the disposition. It was natural, 
therefore, for the king to seek some security 
against it. He had dealt kindly with Abra- 
ham from his first settlement in the country, 
and had good reason to claim kindness in re- 
turn. A solemn covenant was accordingly 
entered into, and confirmed by an oath. 

Abraham seems to have removed from the 
place where he first established himself in the 
country of Abimeloch, and gradually tended 



TESTIMONY TO ABRAHAM^ GREATNESS. 157 

toward the south. Here a difficulty occurred 
about a matter, of far greater importance than 
many which have resulted in serious and bloody 
wars; a difficulty nevertheless which, under 
the wise management of Abraham, was soon 
and amicably settled. Wells of water in a 
country where springs are rare, and suffering 
often great on account of drought, are exceed- 
ingly valuable ; and to deprive a family or 
tribe of a well or fountain, would be an act in 
] the highest degree oppressive — an atrocious 
1 outrage. Such an outrage was committed by 
the servants of Abimelech upon Abraham. 
They violently took possession of a well which 
belonged to him, and which was probably 
necessary for the daily use of his flocks and 
i herds. He consequently entered a complaint 
to the king, and the whole matter was imme- 
j diately aad satisfactorily adjusted. They made 
janother covenant, ratifying it with reciprocal 
gifts of considerable value; and a controversy 
j which, between other chiefs of that age, would 
J have been likely to end in a long contest and 
much bloodshed, was brought to a peaceful and 
14 



158 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

friendly termination. The well was thence 
called Beersheba, the -well of the oath, in com- 
memoration of the event. There Abraham 
planted a grove, which he consecrated as a 
kind of temple for the worship of the " Ever- 
lasting God," and "sojourned in the land of 
the Philistines many days." 






CHAPTER XIII. 



THE SACRIFICE OF ISAAC. 

u By faith Abraham, when he was tried, offered Op Isaac ; and 
he that had received the p romtf e< y offered up his only-hcgotten 
son ; of whom it WM said, that in Isaac shall thy ieed be called. 
Accounting that God was able to raise hirn op, even from the 
dead; from whence also he receiver] him in a figure."— Hch. xi. 
17-19. 

Sixty-five years had now elapsed since 
God manifested himself to Abraham, and call- 
l ed him from Ur of the Chaldees. During a 
large proportion of that time, he had been held, 
as we have seen, in anxious suspense, vacillat- 
ing between hope and fear, often perplexed 
though never completely in despair. His faith, 
severely tried as it was, seems generally to 
have remained unshaken. The early promise 
which had led him to anticipate the highest 
honour of a patriarch — a numerous and happy 
posterity, had been often and variously re- 



160 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

peated ; — and after nearly forty years of tan- 
talizing delay, had been fulfilled in the birth of 
Isaac. At last, the good man no doubt imagines 
his trials are over. His favourite son — his only 
son, indeed, for Ishmael is to him as if he were 
not — is now arrived at mature years ; and in 
him is realized all that a father's fond heart could 
desire. He has passed the most dangerous 
period of life ; his frame has the compactness 
and vigour of manhood ; his cheek bears the 
bloom of health ; there is energy in his step ; 
and buoyancy in every movement. Submis- 
sive and obedient, cheerful and kind, he is the 
life of the patriarch's old age ; and as he looks 
upon his son, and watches the progressive 
development of his character, giving assurance 
that the warmest anticipations of parental love 
will not be disappointed, his bosom swells with 
emotions of gratitude, not unmingled perhaps 
with some little alloy of natural pride. 

One night, as the patriarch is lying in his 
tent, dreaming, as we may suppose, of Isaac, 
the pride and promise of his family, and feast- 
ing his fancy on golden visions of the future 



SACRIFICE OF ISAAC. 161 

glory of his line, he is suddenly awaked by 
that voice which had so often spoke to him 
from heaven. The well known voice pro- 
nouncing the name of Abraham cannot be mis- 
taken. Starting from his pillow, he exclaims— 
" Behold, here I am." It is a reverential and 
submissive reply to the heavenly call, intimat- 
ing a readiness to receive whatever instruction 
and obey whatever command, the divine mes- 
senger might be about to communicate. But, 

; little did he anticipate what was to follow. 
Possibly he had been too much elated with the 
brightness of his prospects ; and his heart, al- 

I most intoxicated with joy, needed another trial 
to restore the balance of humble and sober 

1 dependence. Again the voice breaks on his 
ear — " Take noio thy son!" — The father's 
breast begins to swell with anxiety; — " Take 
my son ! and what more? It cannot be that 
aught of harm is in store for Isaac." " Thine 
only son Isaac, whom tJiou lovest" the myste- 
rious voice continues, awakening still more the 
father's solicitude ; for there is something man- 
ifestly ominous in the tone. He listens eagerly 
14* 



162 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

to know the conclusion and purport of the 
message — " And get thee into the land of 
Moriah." Every expression is fitted to go to 
the heart, and each, in the succession, with 
increasing force, causing every chord of pa- 
rental tenderness to vibrate. " Thy son, thine 
only son, whom thou lovest — him on whom all 
thy hopes depend, and in whom the precious 
promises of God are centred — take him and 
depart to the land of Moriah." All these cir- 
cumstances are enumerated, as if to arouse, in 
their utmost keenness, the parent's sensibilities, 
before the final issue of the whole is made 
known. What can be the object of this strange 
journey ? Possibly, after all, the issue may be 
happy. On mount Moriah, God may design 
to bestow some signal blessings upon Isaac ; — 
but still the object of the journey is a mystery ; 
and still the father's soul yearns with intolera- 
ble solicitude to know the event. Again the 
voice speaks — " Offer him there for a burnt- 
offering upon one of the mountains which I 
will tell thee of!" What a commission for a 
father ! " Offer him for a burnt-offering, slav 



SACRIFICE OF ISAAC* 163 

him, immolate him with thine own hand ! Go 
i to that distant mount ; prepare the altar ; bind 
thy son upon it ; shed his blood, closing thine 
ears against his cry ; and applying the torch, 
let him consume to ashes before thine eyes !" 
O, if this might have been done by another 
hand ; if Isaac might have been smitten down by 
the lightning of heaven, or wasted away under 
some incurable disease, it could have been 
borne. But for the parent to sacrifice his only 
child — to be at once the agent and the witness 
of his expiring agonies, was more, one would 
think, than human nature could endure. " And 
, is it for this," Abraham might naturally have 
exclaimed, " is it for this that I have wandered 
an exile, in perplexing suspense between hope 
and despondency, these three-score years ? Is 
this to be the issue of that promise which I 
have so long waited for, and at last seen ful- 
filled, only to plunge me into deep and hopeless 
disappointment ! On that funeral pile, lighted 
by my own hand, are all my cherished expec- 
tations to be consumed for ever ? 

But not a syllable of this escaped the patri- 



164 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

arch's lips. He knew in whom he had believ- 
ed. His past trials had not been in vain. His 
confidence in the faithfulness of God was un- 
shaken. Patience had well nigh had its per- 
feet work ; and he had no fears that He who 
had borne him safely through six trials, would 
forsake him in the seventh. Committing his 
cause, therefore, to Him who judgeth right- 
eously, he resolved to obey the command. 

The night passed away, we may well ima- 
gine, in sleepless anxiety attended with much 
fervent prayer ; — and no sooner had the gray 
light of morning risen on the distant hills, than 
Abraham arose and prepared for his journey. 
He stopped not to confer with flesh and blood. 
He locked the dreadful secret fast in his own 
bosom. Not even to Sarah does it seem to 
have been communicated. He feared counsel 
— he feared delay. Perhaps he apprehended 
that a wife's remonstrances and tears would 
unman him for a duty which required all the 
firmness of his nature. He did not even pause 
to deliberate with himself. He knew the com- 
mand was from heaven, and that he had no- 



SACRIFICE OF ISAAC. 165 

thing to do but obey. Thus his faith wrought 
with his works, and by works was made per- 
fect. Such is the faith which God demands, 
which gives strength to character, furnishes 
impulse to duty, and secures a certain victory 
over the world. 

The preparation is soon completed. There 
is little to be done, except to select two young 
men from among the servants of the family, 
cleave a small quantity of wood for the burnt- 
offering, prepare such simple provision as was 
needed for the journey, get Isaac in readiness, 
saddle an ass, and set forward toward the place 
appointed. All this is done with the coolness 
of a collected and confiding mind, so that no 
painful suspicions are excited either in Isaac or 
his mother. The sun is scarcely risen on the 
summits of the Philistine mountains, when the 
little company are in motion, winding slowly 
along the valleys, and approaching the place 
of Abraham's former sojourn in Hebron. How 
admirable the promptitude of the patriarch ! 
i It must have been inconceivably painful to 
take leave of his familv under circumstances 



166 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

like these, and doubtless bitter tears were wept 
when he embraced his wife at parting, and re- 
ceived from her lips the affectionate charge, to 
exercise a watchful care over Isaac. 

The first night was very probably spent in 
Hebron, which lay directly in their way, and 
at about one third of the distance which they 
had to travel. The second day was consumed 
in weary travel and solemn reflection ; and the 
third was now wearing away, when the mount 
of sacrifice was descried afar off. They had 
ascended an eminence, commanding an exten- 
sive view of the country before them; and 
Abraham, lifting up his eyes, discovered the 
summit of Moriah, designated perhaps by some 
visible sign, a fiery cloud or other supernatural 
appearance, which Abraham immediately un- 
derstood. It was a mountain in the land of 
Moriah, the same, as some suppose, where 
Solomon's temple was afterwards built, or, as 
others maintain, where the great atoning sa- 
crifice was offered. 

Here Abraham paused ; and giving the beast 
of burden in charge to the young men, and 



SACRIFICE OF ISAAC. 167 

pointing to the mountain on which the divine 
symbol rested, said — " Abide ye here, — while 
I and the lad go yonder and worship, and come 
again unto you." His faith was strong that, 
even should Isaac be sacrificed, he would be 
restored by the power of God ; for the divine 
promise could not fail. He trusted that he 
should receive him back to his embrace though 
it were from the ashes of the sacrifice. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

THE SAME SUBJECT CONTINUED. 

" When we least expect his aid, 
The Saviour will appear. 

This Abraham found : he raised the knife ; 

God saw, and said— Forbear ! 
Yon ram shall yield his meaner life ;— 

Behold the victim there." Corvper. 

Having left the young men behind, lest they 
should be a hinderance to him in the perform- 
ance of his heart-rending duty, and laying on 
Isaac's shoulder the wood for the sacrifice, as 
the cross was afterwards laid on the Saviour, 
he took in his own hand the fire and the knife, 
and proceeded with his son toward the moun- 
tain. A very few paces brought them to its 
base. And now they begin to toil up its rug- 
ged ascent, the son unconscious of what was 
before him, struggling under his burden; while 
the father, knowing it all, experienced a still 
harder struggle in his own bosom. For, al- 



SACRIFICE OF ISAAC. 169 

though he did not despair of the restoration of 
,. Isaac, yet surely it was no light matter for a 
fond father to bind an only child and tenderly 
loved, like a lamb upon the altar, thrust the 
| knife into his throbbing breast, and then see 
the body consume in the flame till nothing was 
left but a blackened cinder or a mass of smoul- 
dering ashes. Few could have contemplated 
; such a scene with composure,- whatever might 
be their expectation concerning the issue* And 
, Abraham's feelings must have been rendered 
1 more agonizing by Isaac's innocent and unsus- 
pecting inquiry : — " My father, behold the fire 
and the wood ; but where is the lamb for a 

I burnt-offering?" We can almost see the af- 

I ' 

fectionate father turn away his face to conceal 

| the gushing tears, while with a trembling 
voice he answers, — " My son, God will pro- 
vide a lamb for a burnt-offering." Never was 
a tenderer reply returned to a more touching 
inquiry. 

Isaac was entirely ignorant of the object of 
the journey. Though now twenty-five or thirty 
years old, he had all the artless simplicity of 
15 



170 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

childhood. He had often, no doubt, accom- 
panied Abraham, when he went forth to sacri- 
fice to the Lord in the grove at Beersheba ; 
and he supposed that all these preparations were 
only for a more solemn sacrifice of the same 
general character. 

Abraham's reply may be thought to need 
some explanation. Did he intend to deceive 
his son, when he said that God would provide 
a lamb for a burnt-offering 7 Or had he a 
presentiment that such would be the event ? 
We cannot suppose the latter ; for Paul informs 
us that he " accounted that God was able to 
raise him up even from the dead" This then 
was his expectation ; and not that a substitute 
would be provided. Did he then intend to de- 
ceive? This is not to be admitted. The pious 
patriarch's mind probably ran forward to the 
sacrifice of the Lamb of God once in the end 
of the world for the putting away of sins ; — 
and this may have had some influence in de- 
termining the form of the expression. But his 
meaning seems to have been simply, that God 
would take care that the necessary provision, 



SACRIFICE OF ISAAC. 171 

whatever it might be, should be made. Pro- 
bably he had no expectation that a lamb would 
actually be provided, and his words proved un- 
consciously prophetic. The terms he used 
were conformed to the terms used in Isaac's 
inquiry ; not to deceive his son, but by ex- 
pressing his own confidence in God, to inspire 
him also with the same sentiment.* It is de- 
lightful to notice the easy and pleasant method 

* The following illustration may perhaps serve 
I to set this matter in a somewhat clearer light. Sup- 
, pose a ship is wrecked at sea, and among* the suf- 
ferers are a father and son, who contrive to keep 
above the waves by clinging" to some floating frag- 
ments, in the hope that succour will at length ap- 
pear. Hours pass ; and the son having wearied 
himself with looking around for a friendly sail to 
come to their rescue, and now almost in despair, 
cries out — " Father, who will send a boat to save 
us ?" The father replies, " God will send us a 
boat, my son," meaning nothing more than this, 
that he is very confident God in his providence will 
send them deliverance in some form or other. Such 
expressions are natural and occur every day in com- 
mon discourse. 



172 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

which he takes to lead up Isaac's thoughts to 
Him who is at all times " a very present help 
in trouble." This may be only one of ten 
thousand instances in which he sought to im- 
press the animating truth of man's dependence 
on God, upon the mind of his son, and culti- 
vate in him a childlike confidence in his power 
and goodness. Thus gently did he instill into 
his mind the pure and transforming principles 
of religion, and prepare him for the part which 
he was to perform in transmitting the know- 
ledge and worship of God to coming genera- 
tions. 

Isaac was apparently satisfied with his fa- 
ther's answer ; and they move silently on till 
they reach the top of the mountain. All the 
way, we may suppose, Abraham's heart was 
lifted up to God in fervent prayer for strength 
to discharge the dreadful duty to which he had 
been called ; and also for the restoration of 
the victim. Having arrived at the summit of 
Moriah, Abraham looks around for a suitable 
spot for the sacrifice. It is soon discovered. 
He then proceeds to make the necessary pre- 



SACRIFICE OF ISAAC. 173 

parations. The altar is built ; the wood is laid 
in order ; Isaac is bound thereon ; and the fa- 
ther's hand stretched forth to take the knife. 
What a moment of anguish must this have 
been to his heart ! One knows not whether to 
wonder more at the submissiveness of the son, 
in thus quietly yielding himself up ; or the for- 
titude of the father in thus resolutely proceed- 
ing to take his life. There seems to have been 
neither resistance on the part of the former, 
nor hesitation on the part of the latter. We 
hear of no struggle, no further questioning 
even from Isaac. It is hardly possible to per- 
suade one's self, however, that all the circum- 
stances of this transaction are recorded. Much 
must be left for the imagination to supply. 
Many inquiries may have been proposed, and 
answered ; many objections urged, and remov- 
ed. We can scarcely conceive of the young 
man's suffering the cords to be bound around 
his limbs, and then quietly lying down upon 
the altar, without much questioning on the one 
hand, and much instruction on the other. An 
anxious and intensely interesting dialogue was 
15* 



174 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

doubtless held between the parent and the child ; 
but this we can only conjecture. Isaac might 
have urged, that the act his father was about 
to perform, would cut off all his hopes, and 
leave him without name or remembrance on 
the earth. It would defeat all the promises he 
had received from God. And looking up in 
his venerable face, furrowed with years, but 
beaming with the tenderest affection, what a 
moving appeal might he make to the compas- 
sion of a parent's heart ! Yet the patriarch's 
firmness was immovable. To every argument 
and every appeal he returned a ready answer, 
accompanied with such force of persuasion or 
such divine authority, that no further objection 
was offered. Abraham was well acquainted 
with that most important art of family govern- 
ment ; and his son had effectually learned the 
correlative duty of submission. He had been 
long accustomed to look upon his father as in- 
vested with a certain divine authority, and to 
receive his commands as inviolable law. Even 
on this most trying occasion, therefore, he 
meekly submitted to his father's will. 

The fortitude as well as the firmness of 



SACRIFICE OF ISAAC. 175 

Abraham in this transaction, is, in the highest 
degree, admirable; — the moral heroism of 
Brutus in sacrificing his sons to the claims of 
justice, is not to be mentioned in comparison 
with it. Looking up to heaven for aid, sup- 
pressing the sensibilities and silencing the plead- 
ings of nature, he addresses himself to the 
dreadful task. 

The bosom of the victim is bared ; the point 
of the deadly weapon is applied ; the arm is 
collecting its strength for the fatal thrust ; and 
one moment more will witness the gush of the 
life blood from the heart. There is a brief 
pause for the soul to summon all its energy for 
the mortal act, when a voice, " Abraham ! 
Abraham !" rings like a thunder peal in the 
father's ear. His knife falls from his hand, 
and with that hand uplifted toward heaven, he 
exclaims with the same prompt submission that 
had characterized him from the first, " Here 
am I." He knew it was the voice which had 
often been his counsellor: and he yielded at 
once to whatever message it might bring. The 
messenger proceeds — " Lay not thine hand 



176 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

upon the lad, neither do thou any thing unto 
him ; for now I know that thou fearest God, 
seeing that thou hast not withheld thy son, 
thine only son, from me." 

The great object of the trial had been at- 
tained. Abraham's trust in God, had been 
shown to be stronger than his affection for his 
darling son ; and here the trial was suspended. 
Nothing more was necessary. The highest 
possible proof, the most perfect illustration of 
faith has been given for the instruction of man- 
kind ; for he who would sacrifice his only son 
in obedience to the divine command, must 
possess a strength of faith adequate to any 
trial. 

Abraham now lifted up his eyes and discov- 
ered a ram caught in a thicket by his horns, at 
no great distance. This animal he immediately 
resolved to sacrifice instead of Isaac. Unbind- 
ing him therefore from the altar, with feelings 
of unutterable gratitude and joy, on the part 
both of the father and the son, he bound the ram 
and offered it in his stead. And as the smoke 
of that sacrifice went up to heaven, they doubt- 



SACRIFICE OF ISAAC. 177 

less prostrated themselves at the foot of the 
% altar, and poured out their hearts in devout and 
joyful thanksgiving unto God. 

According to the custom of the times, the 
mountain on which this scene was transacted, 
was called Jehovah- Jireh, the Lord will pro- 
vide, in commemoration of the divine interpo- 
sition by which Isaac was rescued from death. 
And down to the time of Moses, it was a com- 
mon proverb among the Jews. In the 7aount 
■ it shall be provided, or, in seasons of extre- 
1 mity, the Lord shall send relief. 
\ After this trial, in which the patriarch's vir- 
, tue shone with such resplendent lustre, he re- 
ceived a new confirmation of the promise, in 
respect to the multitude, the power, and happi- 
I ness of his posterity. The promise was not 
only renewed, but renewed in an enlarged and 
more definite form. Abraham had proved 
himself willing, if God required it, to part 
with his only son ; — now he was assured that 
his seed should be as the stars of heaven, and 
the sand upon the sea-shore ; and what had 
never before been promised, they were to ex- 



178 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

ercise dominion over their enemies. Through 
the Saviour, who was to arise in the line of 
Isaac's descendants, all the nations of the earth 
were to be blessed. The whole was now con- 
firmed by an oath, and all because Abraham 
had obeyed the divine command. 

With a glad and grateful heart, they now 
returned to Beersheba, where they sojourned 
some little time ; and then, as it appears from 
the sequel, returned to Hebron — the former and 
the favourite residence of the patriarch. 



CHAPTER XV. 

GENERAL REMARKS ON THE SACRIFICE. 

" Jud^e uol the Lord by feeble sense, 

But trust htm for bis gr&ee; 
Behind a frowning Providence, 

He hides a smiting face. 
His purposet will ripen last, 

Unfolding every hour ; 
The bud /nay have a bitter taste, 

But tweet will b<: the flower* 1 ' Cowper, 

| It is natural to inquire, what could have 

I been the design of God in this transaction ? 

! The sacred historian speaks of it as a tempta- 
tion. But the simple meaning of the word is, 

I* trial* It is not to be regarded in the light of 
an ordinary temptation. The term employed 

i is the same that is often used in the Scriptures, 
to represent the discipline by which God in his 
providence is accustomed to put to the test the 
fidelity and virtue of his people. Abraham 
was moved to put his son to death, but divinely 
moved, moved by an express command of God. 



180 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

This is distinguished from ordinary temptation 
by the very important circumstance, that it 
proceeded from a good Being and was intend- 
ed for a good purpose ; whereas what we 
usually and properly denominate temptation, 
proceeds from a bad being and is intended for 
a bad purpose. 

The design of God in this transaction, was, 
from the beginning, a design of the purest be- 
nevolence. It was not to destroy Isaac. He 
was not permitted to be sacrificed, though on 
the very point of death. The design may be 
considered as three-fold. 

1. To try Abraham's faith for his own good. 
The transaction was of the nature of whole- 
some personal discipline, calculated to strength- 
en every virtuous principle belonging to his 
character. It was meant to humble him still 
more, to lead him to a more complete depen- 
dence on God, and establish more firmly his 
confidence in the divine promise. 

2. It was doubtless intended to exhibit the 
character of Abraham in a new and most in- 
structive aspect to the world. God needed no 



REMARKS ON THE SACRIFICE. 181 

additional knowledge concerning him, to be de- 
rived from such a trial. He knew how he 
would act under these trying circumstances. 
The transaction therefore was not designed to 
draw forth his qualities of heart, his faith, his 
constancy, his fortitude, his submission, to the 
divine eye ; — but to exhibit them in greater 
lustre to the eyes of men. Wherever this ex- 
ample should be known, it would serve as a 
living and most affecting illustration of the 
power of faith, and an effectual encourage- 
ment to all men to obey the divine commands 
with implicit and unwavering trust, however 
opposed they may appear to the dictates of un- 
sanctified reason, and the inclinations of a sel- 
fish heart. This purpose it has answered 
beyond all other examples. In the virtual sa- 
crifice of his son, the patriarch's character 
was rendered complete, as a great exemplar of 
faith, for all subsequent time. As such the 
New Testament writers appeal to it ; and as 
such it will be appealed to, down to the end 
of the world. But, 

3. There was doubtless a still higher design 
10 



182 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

even than this. Judicious interpreters have al- 
ways considered the transaction as a type, or 
figurative prediction, of the atoning sacrifice of 
Jesus Christ. The very place of it, called 
" the Mount of God," seems to have been mark- 
ed out as the scene of great events ; and of 
that kind, too, in which a substitutional sacri- 
fice was offered and accepted. It is pleasing 
to observe among the patriarchs, long before 
the establishment of the Mosaic ritual, pre- 
intimations of an atonement. God did not 
leave himself without witness in those early 
ages, in respect to his purposes of mercy in 
the great plan of Redemption. An atoning 
sacrifice was the chief corner-stone of the 
scheme of salvation which God had devised ; 
the foundation of all man's hopes concerning 
any essential improvement in his condition in 
this life, and, what is infinitely more impor- 
tant, concerning a higher state of happiness in 
the world to come. It was of the utmost con- 
sequence, therefore, to fix the cardinal doc- 
trine of salvation through the blood of a Me- 
diator, deep in the memory and the heart of 



REMARKS ON THE SACRIFICE. 183 

mankind ; and to secure this purpose the trans- 
action which has just been detailed was admi- 
rably adapted. Such an extraordinary fact 
connected with the history of a distinguished 
personage, would become matter of general 
notoriety and attention. 

It is also interesting* to notice the points of 
analogy between the virtual offering of Isaac, 
and the perfect offering of -the Son of God. 
First, it is supposed by many that both trans- 
actions occurred at the same place ; secondly, 
the age of the victims was nearly the same ; 
thirdly, both were freely devoted by paternal 
love, the father giving them up to suffer ; and 
fourthly, on each, the hopes of the world were 
suspended, for the promise was connected with 
both, that in them all the families of the earth 
should be blessed. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

REFLECTIONS. 

" Blind unbelief is sure to err 

And scan his work in vain ; 
God is his own interpreter. 

And he will make it plain." Coxvpcr. 

We cannot dismiss this interesting subject 
without adverting briefly to several considera- 
tions connected with it, of great practical in- 
terest. The circumstances belonging to it, 
are generally of an instructive nature, and 
ought not to be passed by without careful 
attention. 

Previously to the summons which called him 
to Mount Moriah, Abraham probably supposed 
that the protracted series of trials with which 
God had visited him, was at an end. The last 
that had been laid upon him was the dismission 
of Ishmael. But now, looking around him, he 
could perceive nothing which threatened his 
peace. Isaac had escaped the dangers incident 



REFLECTIONS. 1 85 

to early youth, and the Divine promise guaran- 
tied all that he could desire concerning him. 
In his manly form and blooming countenance, 
he seemed to read the history of a healthful 
and vigorous life ; and in his submissive tem- 
per and virtuous habits, he discovered what was 
still more pleasing — the indications of a charac- 
ter worthy of the instructions which he had 
given. And what now had the father to do, 
but enjoy the long desired fulfilment of his 
hopes ? But as the last electric volley of the 
storm is often the most severe, so it was with 
the trial which was about to break forth, as it 
were out of a clear and luminous sky, upon the 
unsuspecting patriarch's head. 

The lesson here taught us cannot be mis- 
taken. All men, not excepting the best, are 
prone to be presuming in seasons of apparent 
prosperity. But the voice which called Abra- 
ham to offer up his son, calls us to remember 
that every treasure in our possession we hold 
not as our own, but only at the will of the 
great Proprietor of all things. We are here 
instructed to be humble in prosperity, and so to 
16* 



186 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

hold the dearest objects of our affection, that we 
may be able cheerfully to resign them. 

We have in Abraham's conduct on this 
occasion an instructive example of acquies- 
cence in the divine will. Whatever may have 
been his state of mind before the trial came, 
he yielded to it without a murmur. " Behold, 
here I am," was his language. He was ready 
to hear the divine communication, whatever 
might be its import, and to bear the burden that 
was to be imposed, however overwhelming 
might be its weight. His soul was nerved to 
bear it before it was laid upon him. He offer- 
ed no opposition ; he uttered no complaint ; he 
betrayed no weakness. His natural affections 
were not extinguished ; but they were subjected 
to the higher principle of faith ; and every 
power, passion, and thought of his mind seems 
to have been brought into subordination to the 
will of God. In a world like this, how neces- 
sary is such a spirit both to our comfort and to 
the faithful performance of our duty ! It is the 
secret of that peace of mind, that settled, un- 
ruffled composure under all circumstances of 



REFLECTIONS. 1 87 

life, which we sometimes, though not uniformly 
find in the pious and devout. Let the mind be 
fixed on God with a firm belief in his infinite 
wisdom and an humble reliance on his mercy ; 
and then, whatever may be the allotments of 
his Providence, we may exult in the triumphant 
language of the Psalmist, " we will not fear 
though the earth be removed, and though the 
mountains be carried into the midst of the 
seas." 

Again : we have, in this narrative, an ex- 
ample of prompt and implicit obedience, worthy 
of all imitation. How many objections might 
Abraham have raised against a compliance 
with the divine direction to go and offer up his 
son ! He might have urged, that it would be 
a heinous crime; — an unnatural crime; — it 
would serve as an encouragement to crime ; — 
it would leave an everlasting blot upon his cha- 
racter ; — it would defeat the purposes of God ; 
— and it would extinguish the hopes of the 
world. At all events, some time must be 
taken for deliberation. Friends must be con- 
sulted, — consequences must be weighed, — and 
the mind prepared for the issue. 



188 THE PATRIARCH OP HEBRON. 

But in the example of Abraham, there is 
nothing of this. He had received a plain com- 
mand from heaven. He was fully convinced 
that the command was from God, and it was 
expressed in the most intelligible form. It left 
no room whatever for doubt. The duty to 
which it called him could not be mistaken. 
Every thing belonging to his duty in the mat- 
ter, was as clear as the light of day ; although 
the reasons and the consequences were veiled 
in the darkness of midnight. But these did not 
belong to his province. Duty was his ; rea- 
sons and results were God's. There was, 
therefore, no confidence, no deliberation, no 
delay. Early in the morning, — and this cir- 
cumstance is worthy of special remembrance, 
— early in the morning, the good man arose, 
prepared himself in haste, and set forth to 
execute the task assigned him. 

This noble example of implicit and prompt 
obedience, we ought carefully to imitate. Our 
first duty is always, to ascertain our duty. 
When this is revealed to us by express and 
full directions, then we have nothing to do but 



REFLECTIONS. 189 

to act. When it is not, then we are to inquire, 
examine, and spare no pains to learn it. When 
duty is ascertained, then we must suffer nothing 
to lie in the way of its performance. If God 
has spoken, we are to listen, learn, and obey. 
Reason and inclination may plead loudly in 
opposition; but if God has spoken, if duty 
calls, the ear must be deaf to every opposing 
voice. This great principle should be esta- 
blished in every heart, — the principle of uni- 
versal obedience to the voice of God, of univer- 
sal compliance with the calls of duty. 

Again : this subject teaches us a beautiful 
lesson of filial subjection and piety. Isaac, in 
the hour of trial, resisted not, but meekly 
yielded himself for the sacrifice. He seems to 
have been led as a lamb to the slaughter; and 
as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he 
opened not his mouth to give utterance to a 
single murmur. How can we account for this, 
but by supposing that he had been trained most 
strictly to submit to his parents' will ? The 
habit of subjection and obedience had unques- 
tionably been firmly established. God did not 



190 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

mistake in predicting that Abraham would 
" command his children and his household after 
him." Hence his son refused not to do and to 
suffer whatever, agreeably to the divine com- 
mand, his father laid upon him. How meekly 
did he bear the wood up the steep ascent of the 
mountain ! How meekly, too, did he lay him- 
self down upon the altar, and wait for the fatal 
knife to perform its bloody office ! 

It seems reasonable to conclude that Isaac 
was himself at this time a devout believer in 
the God of his father. Such an example of 
piety as was always present before him, could 
not fail to make a deep impression on his heart. 
He would not, he dared not disobey one, who 
he knew acted under the immediate guidance 
of the Almighty hand. His father's authority 
here was the authority of God ; and he quietly 
submitted himself to the divine disposal. It is 
enough indeed to produce a shudder, to think 
of what was about to be inflicted on Isaac. 
Nevertheless, he submitted ; and we have seen 
the happy result. Such will uniformly be the 
operation of obedience to parents. The com- 



REFLECTIONS. 191 

mandment which requires it, is a command- 
ment with promise. This instructive lesson 
ought to be deeply engraven on the heart of 
every youth. 

Another lesson taught by this narrative is, 
that trials, meekly borne, even where they may 
appear fatal to all our cherished hopes, and 
obedience promptly rendered to the divine 
commands, however mysterious and apparently 
unreasonable, will brighten into blessings, and 
secure a rich reward in the end. Abraham 
was tried far beyond the common severity of 
human trials. He gave up his son — his only 
son — whom he loved — to be offered on the 
altar. But the trial he was not only enabled 
to endure, — but at the very crisis, it was com- 
pletely removed. Just as he was about to 
drink the bitter cup, it was kindly taken from 
his lips. The blow which was about to pros- 
trate all his hopes, was turned aside and made 
the means of their firmer establishment. His 
son, now virtually sacrificed, was restored to 
him as if from the dead — his life still untouch- 
ed. The moment of extremity was to him a 



192 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

moment of mercy. Thus God compassionate- 
ly remembers his afflicted children, and never 
wants means to relieve them in the hour of 
their necessity. They who affectionately trust 
in him shall not be forsaken ; and all things 
shall work together for their good. 

Abraham obeyed : — and not only did he 
thus set the seal of sincerity on his faith, and 
secure to himself the imputation of righteous- 
ness ; but he received a fresh and a fuller con- 
firmation of the promise, which unfolded to 
his eye the glory of his lineage. " By myself 
have I sworn," said the Lord, " for because 
thou hast done this thing, and hast not with- 
held thy son, thine only son ; that in blessing 
I will bless thee, and in multiplying I will mul- 
tiply thy seed, as the stars of heaven, and as 
the sand which is upon the sea shore ; and thy 
seed shall possess the gate of his enemies. 
And in thy seed shall all the families of the 
earth be blessed ; because thou hast obeyed my 
voice" He obeyed : — and all the evils which 
he might have feared as the result of his 
obedience in this extraordinary case, were 



REFLECTIONS. 193 

averted ; his hands were not stained with the 
blood of his son ; but he took him back to 
his bosom with increased assurance of his future 
prosperity ; his character, so far from suffering 
aspersion, shone forth with redoubled lustre; 
the promise of God, instead of a defeat, re- 
ceived another impress of the confirmatory 
seal; and the hopes of the world, instead of 
being extinguished, grew brighter in the light 
reflected from this symbol of the great atoning 
sacrifice. 

Thus he who faithfully obeys the commands 
of God, and walks by faith rather than by 
sight, shall be safely guided, graciously ap- 
proved, and richly rewarded. Let there be 
faith as strong, and obedience as prompt as 
the patriarch's, and the blessing of God shall 
be as certainly secured. "For blessed are 
they that do his commandments, that they may 
have right to the tree of life, and may enter in 
through the gates into the city." 



17 



CHAPTER XVII. 

THE DEATH OF SARAH. 

" To lie down 
In this dark pit she cometh, dust to dust, 
Ashes to ashes, till the glorious mom 
Of resurrection." 

" Thy rest shall be 
In such companionship as thou hast loved 
Even from thy being's dawn ; pure breathing plants, 
Soft melodies of waters and of trees, 
The brightest, holiest charms of earth and sky— 
Nor yet unchronicled, nor unbeloved 
Of faithful memory." 

Sigourney. 

From his journey to Mount Moriah, Abra- 
ham returned to Beersheba ; but soon removed 
thence, as it would appear to the neighbour 
hood of Hebron. In the meantime, he was 
refreshed with intelligence from Haran con- 
cerning his brother Nahor's family. Commu 
nication in those times was slow and difficult 
between distant places ; but near relatives 
nevertheless had the satisfaction sometimes of 



DEATH OF SARAH. 



195 



hearing from one another, though remotely 
separated. Abraham was not a man lightly 
to esteem such a privilege as this; nor was 
the reception of intelligence from his brother 
deemed, by the sacred historian, too trivial a 
matter to occupy a place on the inspired 
page. 

Soon after the patriarch's removal to Hebron, 
he was visited with a new and heavy affliction. 
His trials were not yet at an end. Indeed it was 
with him, as it is with all men of every age, — 
his life was but a series of trials more or less 
severe, with brief and lucid intervals between 

| them. For a long course of years, he had en- 
joyed the society of one, who, with all her 
weaknesses, had contributed not a little to his 

! comfort and happiness, as they shared together 
the joys and sorrows of their pilgrim-life. 
Sarah was not wanting in the amiable qualities 
of her sex ; and their long connexion and 
mutual participation of the good and ill which 
the hand of Providence had apportioned them, 
had bound them to each other with no ordinary 
tie. But now, after travelling together in their 



196 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

wanderings, from early life up to the age of 
more than six score years, one is to be left 
behind, while the other pursues his pilgrimage 
alone. Death at last must sever the tie — the 
tenderest tie which belongs to earthly relations. 
It is affecting to think of such a separation, 
though the event lies far off, beyond the inter- 
val of thirty-seven centuries. Time has not 
changed the nature of man ; and we can sym- 
pathise with the patriarch in his bereavement, 
as if it had occurred but yesterday, and in our 
own neighbourhood. 

Of the circumstances of Sarah's death, we 
are left in ignorance. But probably at the age 
of one hundred and twenty-seven years, nature 
gradually gave way, and the lamp of life went 
out by degrees. It may perhaps be inferred 
from the inspired account, that Abraham was 
absent at the time, and had not the mournful 
pleasure of comforting her in her decline and 
closing her eyes in death. But he " came to 
mourn for Sarah, and to weep for her." Much 
cause had he to mourn, and his tears were 
tears of unfeigned sorrow. There is a holy 



DEATH OF SARAH* 197 

grief which we may lawfully indulge. Abra- 
ham wept over the remains of Sarah. Jesus 
wept at the grave of Lazarus. But we hear 
not a syllable of complaint. He mourned in 
silent anguish ; and the heart that refused not 
to offer up the son, repined not at the loss of 
the wife. 

The last trying office remained to be per- 
formed. A suitable resting place must be 
sought for the remains, where they must be 
hidden from human sight for ever. Abraham, 
therefore, " stood up before his dead," and in 
language of most touching simplicity, desired 
to purchase a burying-place, that he might 
" bury his dead out of his sight." 

It was common in ancient times, when a 
person died, to place the body, shrouded in 
grave clothes, upon a bier bedecked with 
flowers near the door of the tent or dwelling. 
There it remained, while the relatives and 
friends came to weep over it, till it was neces- 
sary to convey it to the tomb. Possibly all 
that is meant by Abraham's " coming" to 
mourn for Sarah, is that he came from his tent 
17* 



198 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

to look upon her for the last time and give 
proper utterance to his grief. There perhaps 
the sons of Heth, who dwelt in the neighbour- 
hood, had come to show their respect for the 
deceased ; and it was of them the patriarch 
sought to purchase a burial place. " I am a 
stranger and a sojourner with you," said he 
mournfully ; for he felt more deeply than ever 
that he was a lonely pilgrim on the earth. 

The manner in which the sons of Heth 
treated Abraham, evinces in how high estima- 
tion he was held. To his proposal they reply, 
— a Thou art a mighty prince among us : in 
the choice of our sepulchres, bury thy dead : 
none of us shall withhold from thee his sepul- 
chre." They could not refuse him so reason- 
able a request ; and indeed such was their 
respect for his character, they deemed it a 
privilege to oblige him. The sons of Heth, 
though ignorant of God, saw in his devoted 
servant much that commanded their veneration. 
He sojourned among them as a being of higher 
rank. His heavenly virtues awakened their 
wonder and won their confidence. This is 



DEATH OF SARAH. 199 

perhaps more than good men can always justly 
expect from a wicked world ; but generally it 
is true, that " when a man's ways please the 
Lord, he maketh even his enemies to be at 
peace with him." 

The patriarch gratefully acknowledged their 
kindness. With a courteousness which shows 
the most refined and elevated feelings, " he 
stood up and bowed himself to the people of 
the land," and declining the burial place as a 
gift, begged that he might be allowed to pur- 
chase it of Ephron. Ephron, on the other 
hand, with equal courtesy, besought him to 
accept it freely, and formally presented it to 
him in the presence of his brethren. Again 
the patriarch bowed himself down before the 
sons of Heth, in token of his gratitude ; but in- 
sisted that Ephron should receive a suitable 
compensation. Ephron, overcome at length 
by his urgency, named the price which the 
sepulchre was worth. The sum named was 
four hundred shekels of silver, equal to about 
two hundred dollars. The money was imme- 
diately iveighed out, for money was then reck- 



200 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

oned by weight, — and the property was made 
over to Abraham with due formalities in the 
presence of a competent number of witnesses. 
Thus the cave of Machpelah, situated near 
Mamre, together with the surrounding field and 
groves, became the possession of Abraham and 
his descendants, for a family burial-place. — 
There he deposited the remains of Sarah, and 
there nearly fifty years afterward, his own 
were placed beside them. There were also 
buried Isaac and Rebekah, Jacob and Leah. 

The ancient sepulchres were generally caves 
in the rock, either the work of nature or of art. 
Sometimes they were cut into the solid mass in 
the acclivity of a hill, presenting several cham- 
bers within, formed with perfect regularity and 
incredible labour, extending a great distance 
under ground, and capable of receiving a vast 
number of bodies. Sepulchres of this descrip- 
tion are now frequently found in the East, ex- 
cavated several thousand years ago, yet as 
fresh and beautiful as if they were the work of 
yesterday. Of this sort, though probably 
somewhat more roughly wrought, was the 
cave of Machpelah. 



DEATH OF SARAH. 201 

The care which Abraham took of the re- 
mains of Sarah, exhibits an interesting trait in 
his character. His affection did not terminate 
with the life of its object What ideas he had 
of a future state of being, we cannot accurately 
determine. It is not to be doubted, however, 
that he believed in the future existence of the 
soul. Yet, while he must have regarded the 
soul as infinitely more to be valued than the 
body, he did not treat the body with neglect. 
He was anxious to provide for it a decent rest- 
ing-place. It is a mark of a noble mind. He 
who does not respect the dead will rarely be 
found to deserve the respect of the living. We 
may imagine that it is of little consequence, 
where the body moulders, when the spirit has 
departed ; but a proper regard for the dead is 
so interwoven with other feelings in the heart, 
that it cannot be extinguished without general 
injury to character. 

Such an event as the death of his wife, could 
not fail to remind Abraham strongly of his 
own mortality. Thus the Providence of God 
read to him a solemn lesson, and pointed him 



202 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

to the approaching termination of his course on 
earth. It warned him to accomplish without 
delay whatever remained to be done for the 
good of Isaac, or to put his own soul in readi- 
ness for eternity. Death is at all times an im- 
pressive monitor ; how much more impressive, 
when it snatches from the husband's bosom the 
partner of his life ! 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

THE CLOSING EVENTS OF ABRAHAM'S LIFE. 

u Farewell 
Blessed and full of days. No more thy prayer 
Up through the solitude of night shall pass 
To bless thy children's children— nor thy soul 
Yearn for reunion with those kindred ones 
Who went to rest before thee— 'Twas not meet 
That thou shouldst tarry longer from that bliss 
Which God reserveth for the pure in heart." 

Sigonrney. 

One important duty remained to be per- 
formed, before Abraham could quietly compose 
himself to die. His life might indeed be pro- 
longed for many years ; but then, he was well 
aware, it was dangerous to delay. Isaac was 
now forty years old, and no suitable compa- 
nion could be found for him among the inhab- 
itants of the land. They were idolatrous ; and 
to take a wife from an ungodly family for one 
who was to continue the line which God had 
established to perpetuate the knowledge and 
worship of his own name among men, would 



204 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

be both unreasonable and impious. According 
to the custom of the times, it was incumbent 
on the father to make the selection. This duty- 
no doubt gave the patriarch much solicitude. 
He would not, in a matter of such momentous 
consequence, neglect to seek by prayer for 
divine direction. His object was not wealth, 
nor honour, nor personal attractions, nor 
princely rank ; but a wife for his son of kin- 
dred feelings, who would readily imbibe cor- 
rect principles of religion. God " had blessed 
him in all things ;" and he was confident, 
while faithful himself in the performance of 
his duty, that the divine blessing would conti- 
nue to rest on his family. That confidence, 
nevertheless, did not degenerate into presump- 
tion. He knew he had no reason to expect 
prosperity among his descendants, if he allow- 
ed his son to form a vicious connexion. Happy 
would it be for society, if all parents, in a 
matter so important, would exercise the watch- 
ful and pious care of Abraham. It is true, the 
customs of the times have changed; but not 
so changed as to close the parent's lips nor 



events of Abraham's life. 205 

annul his authority. The voice of persuasion 
might often succeed where the tone of com- 
mand would fail; and the son or daughter 
might be directed in the way of safety by 
kindness, though stern and imperious dicta- 
tion might destroy the peace which it was in- 
tended to secure. 

Nahor's family at Haran, seem to have been 
in some measure imbued with the true spirit of 
religion. Yet, there is reason to believe, there 
was much of error mingled with the truth in 
their minds ; and, on the whole, we may con- 
clude that their religion was a compound sys- 
tem, partly idolatrous and partly spiritual. 
We find* that Laban, the grandson of Nahor 
and father of Rachel, had " images," tera- 
phim, and no doubt paid them some sort of re- 
ligious worship; and yet from what is known 
of his history, he would appear to have been 
one of the most devout of the family. f But 
if they were not spiritual worshipers of the 
true God, they were in a good measure free 

* Gen. xxxi. 19. f Gen. xxiv. 31. 50, 51. 

18 



206 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

from the superstitious notions and corrupt prac- 
tices of other tribes ; and might reasonably be 
expected to embrace a purer system and become 
vitally interested in it, whenever they should 
be more fully instructed. Consequently, no 
serious evil could be apprehended from such a 
connexion with it, as Abraham proposed to 
form for his son. The circumstances of this 
connexion deserve to be seriously studied and 
pondered by all parents who desire the blessing 
of God to rest upon their children from gene- 
ration to generation. " What fellowship hath 
light with darkness ?" 

Abraham, now far advanced in life, looking 
back on the long course of prosperity through 
which the Lord had led him, and desirous that 
the same prosperity might be the portion of his 
descendants, knowing that he must soon die 
and exert no further influence on the destinies 
of his family, called to him the eldest servant 
of his house, supposed to be Eliezer of Da- 
mascus who held the rank of steward, and 
made him engage, under a solemn oath, that 
he would take the necessary measures to pro- 



events of Abraham's life. 207 

cure for Isaac a wife from among his own 
" kindred," and not among the Canaanites. 
By his own kindred, he meant the household 
of Nahor at Haran. He chose that this trusty 
servant should go to Haran and make the se- 
lection, rather than Isaac himself; lest the 
young man should be tempted to remain there. 
It is remarkable what confidence was reposed 
in the servant's wisdom and integrity ; and it 
furnishes a fine illustration of the treatment 
which this class of dependents anciently 
received at the hand of their masters. Eliezer 
was intrusted with the most important duty of 
the father himself. A responsibility under 
which a parent might have trembled, for the 
most momentous consequence were depending 
on it, was transferred to him. 

Eliezer lost no time ; but immediately un- 
dertook the journey. With ten camels, an in- 
ventory of his master's estate, a considerable 
company of under-servants, and a sufficient 
quantity of provisions for some weeks' travel, 
he departed and, in due time, arrived in Meso- 
potamia. Before entering the city of Nahor. 



208 



THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON, 



he caused his caravan to rest at a well, and 
there lifted up his heart to God for divine di- 
rection in his undertaking. This aged servant 
was evidently a sharer in his master's piety. 
His request was, that the damsel that should 
come forth to the well with a pitcher on her 
shoulder, according to the custom of the times, 
and who, being desired to let down her pitcher 
to give him drink, should not only politely 
comply with his request, but propose to give 
his camels drink also, might prove to be the 
one whom God in his providence would appoint 
to be the wife of Isaac. Immediately, even 
while he was yet speaking, there came forth 
from the gate a young and beautiful maiden 
with a pitcher upon her shoulder to draw water. 
In all that followed, the desire of Eliezer was 
exactly answered. Being asked to give him 
drink, the maiden courteously offered to draw 
water also for his camels ; and such was her 
dignity and grace, that the faithful servant was 
not merely soon convinced that the Lord had 
made his journey prosperous, but filled with 
admiration and deiight. Respectfully approach- 



events of Abraham's life. 209 

ing her, he placed a golden ear-ring and brace- 
lets of gold in her hands, and inquired who she 
was, and whether he could be accommodated 
with his company at her father's house. A 
mutual explanation now took place; Nahor's 
family were informed of the arrival of the 
little caravan from the land of Abraham ; and 
the strangers were introduced and entertained 
with great joy. The business was speedily ar- 
ranged and completed. Rebekah, who had 
met the company at the well, was cheerfully 
given up, and she herself as cheerfully con- 
sented to go. They all, we cannot doubt, had 
the highest respect for Abraham. Probably, it 
was through his influence before he left his na- 
tive country, that they were made acquainted, 
in some degree, with the true doctrines of re- 
ligion ; and the memory of his piety and ex- 
traordinary virtues still remained fresh and fra- 
grant among the descendants of Nahor. There 
was no hesitation, therefore, on the part of the 
parents, Bethuel and his wife, in relinquishing 
their daughter to become a daughter to the pa- 
triarch, nor on her part to leave her father's 
18* 



210 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

house for the honour of so truly respectable a 
connexion. The statements of the servant/and 
the intelligence which they had not improbably 
received concerning the prosperity of Abraham, 
must have increased their assurance. Rebekah, 
therefore, was sent away with a light heart 
and a warm blessing, accompanied by several 
maid servants for her especial use. Many days 
elapsed before they reached the land of Canaan. 
At last, Rebekah caught a glimpse of the hills 
of Hebron ; and after winding for some time 
through their valleys, she discovered signs of 
careful cultivation. Yonder was the settlement 
of Abraham. As yet, however, she had made 
no inquiries ; but as she rode along in silence 
upon her camel surrounded with her maidens, 
carefully observed every object that met her 
view. Presently her eye was attracted by 
something moving with slow and measured 
step, in a grove by the way side, and appa- 
rently approaching the spot where they were. 
It was evening, and the shades were deepening 
among the olive trees, obscuring though not 
concealing the objects around them. Having 



events of Abraham's life, 211 

ascertained from the servant that it was Isaac, 
she " lighted off her camel," covering herself 
with a veil in token of respect and submission, 
and thus, with admirable modesty, was present- 
ed to her lord. The connexion proved a happy- 
one, far beyond what sober calculators would 
be likely to predict. Rebekah was industrious, 
amiable, and virtuous. That she had been 
trained to industrious habits, is evident from 
the fact that she was found at the well drawing 
water for the family. It is one of the absur- 
dities of our times, that such useful labours are 
accounted dishonourable among females of rank 
and refinement. We would not go back to 
barbarism; but a lesson or two from Sarah 
and Rebekah would be quite as profitable to 
most of our modern brides, as years of train- 
ing under the exquisites of France and Italy. 
On the other hand, Isaac appears to have been 
gentle, contemplative, and pious. The union, 
therefore, though founded on no previous ac- 
quaintance, yet having its origin in piety and 
prayer, was a union of congenial hearts, and 
fruitful in the enjoyments of wedded life. 



212 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

Abraham must have been greatly gratified, 
on seeing his last and most anxious wish so 
amply fulfilled. Yet, having now less of 
Isaac's society than before, he began, we may 
presume, to languish for want of the foster- 
ing care of a familiar companion. And it is 
not altogether extraordinary, that under these 
circumstances, he should seek another wife to 
cherish and comfort him in his old age. Ac- 
cordingly, he married Keturah — a woman of 
whom nothing is certainly known, except that 
she became the mother of six sons. Some sup- 
pose that she was Hagar, who, after the settle- 
ment of Ishmael in Arabia, returned to her 
former master. It is generally believed that 
she was one of Abraham's house-servants. 

This portion of the patriarch's history is left 
by the sacred writers in perfect obscurity. It 
would have been delightful, and, we can hardly 
doubt, instructive in the highest degree, to fol- 
low him through the last scenes of his protract- 
ed life ; to trace the progressive improvement 
of his character ; to observe his virtues shin- 
ing on and gathering perhaps new and increas- 



events of Abraham's life. 213 

mg beauty, though beaming with a somewhat 
softer effulgence, till, like the setting sun, they 
disappeared at last in a flood of glory. But 
this pleasure we are not permitted to enjoy. A 
veil is thrown over the closing scene ; and all 
that we can know, is, that having shown to 
the last his solicitude to provide for Isaac's se- 
curity in his possession &•*, by sending away the 
sons of Keturah to the distant east, after load- 
ing them with shifts, he died at the aare of one 
hundred and seventy-five years, " and being 
gathered to his people," his body was laid to 
rest by the side of his beloved Sarah, in the 
cave of Machpelah. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

GENERAL VIEW OP ABRAHAM'S CHARACTER. 

" Rise, O my soul, pursue the path, 

By ancient worthies trod ; 
Aspiring, view those holy men, 

Who lived and walked with God. 
Though dead, they speak in reason's ear, 

And in example live ; 
Their faith, and hope, and mighty deeds, 

Still fresh instruction give." Needham. 

The most remarkable and distinguishing fea- 
ture in the patriarch's character, is undoubtedly 
his faith. It is for this especially that he is 
commended in the Scriptures. He is there 
called the "Father of the Faithful." His 
" faith was reckoned unto him for righteous- 
ness." 

But how was this virtue manifested ? It was 
particularly manifested in his giving immediate 
credence to the divine word, when called to 
forsake his kindred and his father's house. He 
received the direction as a matter of unques- 



view of Abraham's character. 215 

tionable verity and binding force. As an un- 
suspecting, confiding child yields at once to 
the truth and authority of a father's command, 
so did Abraham yield to the truth and autho- 
rity of the command of God. Such is inva- 
riably the character of scriptural faith. What- 
ever doctrine, precept, promise, or threatening, 
is revealed to it from heaven, it receives it with- 
out hesitation, not simply as a truth, but as a 
vital principle. Abraham's faith, however, was 
not merely manifested in the instance cited, but 
in numerous other instances, which every reader 
will be able to recall. 

It is an interesting inquiry, how far Abra- 
ham's faith was of an evangelical nature ; in 
other words, to what extent it included a know- 
ledge of, and a reliance on, the future Saviour 
of the world. It cannot be questioned that, 
among the objects of his faith, a Saviour who 
should arise in the line of his own descendants, 
and should make an atonement for mankind, 
stood prominent, if not pre-eminent. Jesus 
Christ expressly says, " Abraham rejoiced to 
see my day ; and he saw it and was glad." 



216 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

And Paul says, speaking of Abel, Enoch, Noah, 
and Abraham, "These all died in faith, not 
having received the promises, but having seen 
them afar off, and were persuaded of them, 
and embraced them." This settles the ques- 
tion, and makes it a matter of certainty, that 
Abraham, with those other patriarchs, were 
true and intelligent believers in a future Mes- 
siah. And, though his faith included much 
more than that single doctrine, it is evident that 
the doctrine of a future redemption was pecu- 
liarly the doctrine of his delight. It is hardly 
to be doubted, that the sacrifices which he of- 
fered had reference to it, and that it gave new 
and peculiar interest to the promise of a nume- 
rous seed, in whom all the families of the earth 
should be blessed. 

The patriarch was also distinguished for the 
activity of his faith. This, indeed, belongs to 
the nature of the principle. No sooner did he 
become acquainted with the divine will, than he 
proceeded instantly to act upon it. He did not 
content himself with simply believing. In 
leaving his native country, in offering Isaac, 



view of Abraham's character. 217 

and on many other occasions, he proved that 
faith was with him a principle of action and 
not merely of credence. And such likewise is 
scriptural faith. It prompts obedience and lays 
a foundation for a character conformed to the 
will of God. 

Abraham was also distinguished for his 
promptitude of action. He did not wait to 
confer with his fellow men,' to watch the cur- 
rent of public opinion or popular favour, or 
even to calculate consequences. The moment 
he had ascertained what God required of him, 
that moment he set himself about the duty, 
whatever it might be. So in all ages, when, 
according to the great principles of the Bible, 
duty is ascertained, obedience is to be rendered 
promptly and fearlessly. This also belongs to 
the nature of genuine faith. 

The patriarch's submission, if it is to be re- 
garded as a distinct virtue, is scarcely less re- 
markable. Not a complaining word is heard 
to escape from his lips. When difficulties 
arise between him and Lot, when the son of 
promise is demanded in sacrifice, and when 
19 



218 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

Sarah dies and is borne away to the tomb — he 
still possesses his soul in patience and submits 
himself unto God. 

Disinterestedness was another remarkable 
trait in his character. When the question arose 
whether himself or his nephew, should remove 
for the sake of peace, he sought no personal 
advantage, but left Lot to choose with unrestrict- 
ed freedom. He was ready to recede even from 
his rights, and to make a sacrifice of interest, 
for their common benefit. He submitted to 
take the lower place, though, in justice, the 
higher belonged to him. O that a jarring world 
would allow itself to be impressed with such a 
lesson of meekness and wisdom ! 

He was manifestly a man of an amiable and 
affectionate temper, with all his firmness and 
fortitude. So far as we are permitted to look 
into the privacy of his domestic life, we per- 
ceive in all his intercourse both as a husband 
and a father, the plainest marks of tenderness 
and love. Possibly it was from an excess of 
tenderness, that he listened to the request of 
his wife to proclaim her his sister. Here, per- 



view of Abraham's character. 219 

haps, was the weak point, at which the only 
serious delinquencies recorded in his history, 
found their way into his life ; so that 

" E'en his failings leaned to virtue's side." 

The strength of his attachments is particularly 
manifest in his grief for Ishmael, when it be- 
came necessary to send him away with his 
mother, to preserve the peace of the family. 
His conduct on that occasion bespoke all a fa- 
ther's heart. Indeed, were his domestic his- 
tory laid fully open to our view, we should 
doubtless discover in him a model of rare ex- 
cellence in all the relations of life, 

Abraham has always been regarded as a 
singular example of true courtesy of manners. 
The respect which he uniformly paid to supe- 
riors, the civility which he manifested to all, 
his ready hospitality, his unfailing and univer- 
sal kindness, gave a fine finish to his other- 
wise admirable character. When the angels 
came to warn him of the approaching over- 
throw of the cities of the plain, he rose up to 



220 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

meet them and bowed himself to the ground, 
though totally unaware, at that time, of their 
superhuman dignity. He moreover entertained 
them, not with lavish, but with cheerful hospi- 
tality. With similar courteousness, he treated 
the sons of Heth in the purchase of a sepul- 
chre. Running through all his conduct, there 
are at once a nobleness and a gentleness of feeling 
rarely found so beautifully blended. His lofty 
soul would not take even a shoe-latchet from 
his conquered enemies, nor accept the gift of 
a burial place from the Hittite. Yet he could 
yield up his own just rights to Lot with the 
most condescending humility. 

We should do injustice to this great man, 
did we not give prominence to his missionary 
services. His name must be placed at the head 
of foreign missionaries; for he was the first 
sent forth to a distant land, (distant it was ac- 
cording to the ideas of that age,) a bearer and 
promulgator of the true religion. For this 
office he had extraordinary qualifications ; and 
although we cannot judge of his success, in 
the absence of all testimony, yet the wide- 



view of Abraham's character. 221 

spread fame of his virtues, preserved even down 
to the present day among most of the tribes of 
central Asia, are an indication that his labours 
were not without their effect : at all events, it is 
clear, that he imprinted the record of his noble 
virtues in characters indelible on the memories 
and the hearts of men, securing their respect 
to him, if not to the religion which he taught. 
In this age of missionary effort, let the charac- 
ter of this great prototype in the cause, be 
faithfully studied. The faith which sustained 
him through every trial ; the spirit which se- 
cured him the friendship of kings and the fa- 
vour of all mankind ; and the unfailing protec- 
tion of Heaven under which he passed through 
every peril of his pilgrimage in safety ; furnish 
topics of meditation of the highest importance 
to all his followers in the same field of labour. 
How cheerfully he obeyed the call — " Get 
thee out of thy country and from thy kindred 
and from thy father's house." And does not 
God utter the same call with an almost audible 
voice, to many a young man who is reluctant 
to break away from the endearments of home, 
19* 



222 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON, 

and meet the toils and hardships of a mission- 
ary life in a foreign land ? " Arise, he calleth 
thee," young man of promise ! thee, whose 
heart has been touched with the fire of divine 
love, and taught to yearn over the helplessness 
and horrors of the heathen world. Turn not 
a deaf ear to the summons. Let not the de- 
lights of u thy country and thy father's house" 
seduce thee from thy duty. With the faith of 
the patriarch saint, follow the steps of the pa- 
triarch missionary ; and the same Almighty 
One shall be " thy shield and thy exceeding 
great reward." 

In short, in the patriarch are beautifully ex- 
emplified those three fundamental graces, 
" faith, hope, charity." His faith, as we 
have seen, opened his soul to the communica- 
tions and influences of heaven, gave impulse to 
obedience, and nourished all the other virtues 
of his character. His hope, though sometimes 
ready to sink, still sustained him through the 
long series of trials by which his character was 
consolidated. His charity appeared beaming 
with mild lustre in every act of his recorded 



view of Abraham's character. 223 

life, and imparting warmth and grace to every 
other excellence. It was the charity which 
" sufTereth long, and is kind, which envieth 
not ; vaunteth not itself; is not puffed up ; doth 
not behave itself unseemly; seeketh not her 
own ; is not easily provoked ; thinketh no evil ; 
— beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth 
all things, endureth all things." 



CHAPTER XX. 

CONCLUDING REMARKS. 

How sweet the hallowed memory of the Just- 
Like odorous breathings from a spicy a shore ! 

In earth's cold bosom long has slept their dust,— 
Yet e'en on earth they live for evermore. 

Their virtues, like a star of purest ray, 

Shine o'er the waste of time with quickening light, 

To guide our wandering feet in wisdom's way, 
And cheer the saddest hour of sorrow's night. 

Jljion. 

It is an obvious reflection from the foregoing 
history, that the world is largely indebted to 
Abraham, or rather to the favour which God 
showed him, for all that is now most to be va- 
lued in the condition and prospects of mankind. 
There was a time, when he seems to have been 
the only devout, praying, holy man in exist- 
ence. He was led forth by the hand of God 
to be the head and father of a holy race. On 
this single, slender link, therefore, hung the 
destinies of all coming generations. By divine 
aid he fulfilled the high trust committed to him, 
with all its amazing responsibilities. He an- 



CONCLUDING REMARKS. 225 

swered the design of God in every situation in 
which he was placed ; and by his faithful obe- 
dience, opened the channel, whereby all spiri- 
tual blessings were to flow down from age to 
age, and be at length diffused abroad among 
the whole human family. Every generation 
ought, therefore, to regard the patriarch with 
deep and grateful respect. How much more 
worthy is he of admiration', than any of the 
heroes, whose names, though they have been 
echoed through the earth, have been accompa- 
nied with the groans of widows and of orphans ! 
Again, we may reflect on the unspeakable 
privilege of having God for a guide and protec- 
tor. Abraham puts himself under his guid- 
ance from the time when he first listened to his 
voice. And he never had occasion to lament 
the choice he had made. The Lord led him, 
it is true, by a way he knew not, through de- 
vious courses, and seems sometimes trying in 
the extreme ; yet, the confiding, patient patri- 
arch found him always faithful to his promise, 
that he would be his " shield, and his exceed- 
ing great reward." 



226 



THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 



And such is the uniform experience of those 
who imitate the patriarch in his faith and obe- 
dience. The Lord knoweth them that are his. 
He did not forsake Noah amid the deluge, nor 
Abraham in a strange land, nor his descend- 
ants in Egypt. On the mount of Sacrifice as 
well as at the altar in Bethel, he was present 
to bestow his blessing. They who humbly 
trust in his mercy, shall rejoice in his salva- 
tion. 

Finally, it is always safe to obey the voice 
of God. It is the part of human nature, to 
doubt and hesitate, when God speaks, though 
it be in the clearest and most intelligible man- 
ner. Men are too apt to weigh opinions and 
consequences against the divine commands ; to 
consult convenience and expediency, even when 
duty is plain upon the most obvious principles ; 
and to wait for favourable times, when God's 
time is the present moment. Had Abraham 
delayed, and conferred with his friends, and 
looked forward to probable results, the divine 
purposes, for aught we can see, would neces- 
sarily have been defeated. But, trusting in 



CONCLUDING REMARKS. 227 

God, he obeyed the command without delay ; 
and everlasting blessings crowned his obedi- 
ence. The evils which he might have feared, 
vanished before him, and mercies more than he 
could have hoped were bestowed, as he went 
boldly on his way following with undeviating 
steps the path of duty. 

Thus ha secured the favour of God for him- 
self and his posterity. Thus he became a 
fountain of blessings to the world. And among 
almost all nations, his name is preserved in 
grateful remembrance. He will be regarded 
down to the end of time as one of the greatest 
benefactors of his race, and throughout eter- 
nity he will stand in the highest rank in glory. 

" In the life of Abraham, we find an epitome 
of the whole law of nature, of the written law> 
and of the Gospel of Christ. He has manifest- 
ed in his own person those virtues for which 
reason and philosophy could scarcely find out 
names, when striving to sketch the character 
of their sophist — a wise or perfect man. c Phi- 
losophy itself,' says Ambrose, * could not equal 
in its descriptions and wishes, what was exem- 



228 THE PATRIARCH OF HEBRON. 

plified by this man in the whole of his conduct.' 
As soon as he hears the voice of God, he girds 
himself to the work. Not a moment is lost." 
Let us, in imitation of his example, bow with 
all humility to the authority of God ; and leav- 
ing events in the hands of him who doeth all 
things well, follow, without hesitation or fear, 
the directions of his word, and the openings of 
his providence. So may we attain the same 
high eminence of piety, and be joined at last 
to the same glorious company of saints. 



THE END. 



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